you can call me pants, but i'm not going to wear them to church

i have been trying to write this post all morning. or maybe i should say, i have been writing and rewriting this post all morning, on paper, in my head, everywhere. but i think i should just cut to the chase. 

mormon feminists are wearing pants to church on sunday. i am planning to wear a skirt.

i was blessed to grow up in a home and environment where men and women were partners and treated fairly. i was never not allowed to do something, or made to do something else, because i was a girl. i was never told i couldn’t do one thing, or that i had to do another thing, because i was a girl. my potential was limitless and my worth was connected to me and me alone. i didn’t call myself a “feminist” until i got to college because i didn’t know there was a special word for what i assumed was the way everyone thought about the world and treated each other.

i recognize that not everyone was blessed to grow up like this. that breaks my heart. 

i have had to find my own peace about things i do not understand and cannot explain easily in my own faith tradition. i have felt frustrated, confused, offended, marginalized, misunderstood, out of place and judged. 

i have also felt loved, empowered, supported, recognized, seen and heard. always by my heavenly father, often by others. 

i believe that men and women are different, just as every person is somehow different from the next. i do not believe that different means “better” and “worse.” i think traditions and untruths that try to explain differences between men and women as the result of one gender being more righteous, more holy, more pure or somehow more “special” than the other are offensive, condescending and damaging to women and to men whether it is women or men perpetuating them. i would like to see those ideas go away entirely and forever. i hope i am playing my part to help that happen.

i believe that men and women can be fair and balanced partners in marriages, in congregations and in any other type of pairing or interaction. i do not believe that fairness equates to sameness. and that is ok with me.

i recognize and understand the desire—the need—to make your voice heard, to reveal yourself, to feel solidarity and shared purpose. i do not judge anything about that, or any way that anyone might settle on to make it happen for them. wearing pants to church is not the way I have settled on to make it happen for me. i hope that is equally respected and embraced.

there is certainly, i think, more to say. but every way I have tried to say it has come out sounding wrong. so i have decided to just say this: i am behind the great and glorious cause. i have, and will continue to fight for it in my own way. this is not my way. but if this is your way let it be known that you, your heart, your purposes and your dreams are seen, heard and safe by me.

the corporate crusade

i had my second social media class at georgetown yesterday, and i am pleased to say it went a lot better than the first one.

(they like me! they really like me!)

as i was listening to the teacher, though, i realized something that i wasn't expecting. this was a woman who found an industry she loved (space) and a place for herself in that industry (social media at NASA) and she is all kinds of successful at what she does as a result. i have always really admired women like that and have always believed that, to some extent, i have what it takes to be like them. or, at the very least i have always wanted to be one of them and imagined how that would look for me. i like the idea of the trendy suits and the presenting at conferences and the being in charge and the corporate crusader.

but the more i glimpse what that really means, the more ambiguous i feel about it. by her own admission, this woman'e job was her life. and not just her job-job, but also the things that come along with being so good at her job, like speaking at conferences and hosting events and teaching classes for people like me. and actually, all that traveling and in and out and back and forth and work and work and work even when you're not physically at work, is not entirely appealing to me after all.

and so i started thinking about where it is that i really want to make a difference. i always assumed it would be through my job, but now i am not so sure. maybe because, while i think i have found my skill, i don't think i have found the job or the industry where i can put that skill to use in a passionate way. but maybe because i can project myself into the future in more ways than i used to be able to. whereas before it seemed that my job was the only place for me to make a mark, now i am rethinking my options.

the good news is, i feel OK with a little bit of ambiguity. i find that the more i live my life and see lots of different choices and options in play around me, the less militant i am about things that are probably less absolute than i made them out to be. (and the more absolute i become about the things that really are.) and i think that's a good thing. maybe my corporate crusading is yet to come. who knows? but i'm happy to know that my life won't be over if it isn't.

less-than-bossy-pants

last night i finished reading "bossypants" by tina fey.

i did not love it.

i liked it all right because it was sort of like reading one big long episode of "30 rock" and i really like "30 rock." but "30 rock" also has alec baldwin and sometimes matt damon and jon hamm and i don't need to read "30 rock" because i can watch it, so "bossypants" was a little bit of a let-down. i just wanted more substance, more truth, more tina and less liz lemon.

one time i watched tina fey give an acceptance speech for an award that was a big deal because she was only the second woman ever to have won it. and she talked about how great the day would be when you couldn't even count how many women had won this award, or how many african americans had won that award or how many anyone had won any award because it would all just be so normal and fair that it wouldn't matter anymore.

i really appreciated her attitude of humility and thankfulness, but also not taking things more seriously than they deserve and allowing for the amount of work there is left to do.

but i also feel like sometimes we can treat things not as seriously as they deserve and right now it is a big deal when tina fey wins those awards and she is the first or the second woman to be doing those things and in order for the rest of us to get there, too, we sort of need to know more about the trail she walked and how she blazed it.

and sure it is going to be different for everyone and sure some advice can be annoying and sure, maybe she didn't want to burden us with her unsolicited opinions but then what is the point of writing a book? and is an unsolicited story about your terrible college "boyfriend" or your husband having a panic attack on your honeymoon any more valuable just because they are hilarious?

there were some near-honest gems, but mostly i just wanted her to give me more. more of what it is really, truly like to get in front of the pack and lead it well.

maybe jack donaghy can help?

in and out: a review

i was over at segullah this weekend, posting about the inner vessel and the outer vessel and consumerism and wearing sweatpants to target and, well, as you can probably tell it was all a bit of a jumble, but feel free to have a read.

and despite the fact that i wasn't quite sure what i was trying to get around to, not to mention how i was going to get around to it, i was so inspired by the (cyber)conversation that resulted from that post.

ultimately, i think my point was (is) this. it's OK to want to look nice and to spend time and even money on your appearance, especially if it makes you feel better and act better. but there has to be a balance in all things, and if we are focusing on our outer selves so much that our inner selves are neglected, then the (metaphoric) scales are not tipping in the right direction.

as one commenter said, "i suppose it would be helpful to... ask ourselves something like, 'is my confidence based on knowing i’m a daughter of God, or because i look really awesome in these great jeans?' i love my well fitted jeans, but if that’s where my confidence lies, there’s a problem."

i also loved this idea that maybe instead of judging people based on what we perceive as a sloppy or unkempt appearance, we should pay more attention to what that appearance is telling us about the needs of one of our sisters: "our environment, our own personal physical environment, does effect how we feel and communicates something about what is going on inside. even when you run to target in sweats to get a baby’s Rx you’re communicating that through your harried look, sweatpants, and screaming baby in tow. if we recognized the hidden messages people send out in these ways we would be better able to reach out and serve them."

but really, it was the message that we shouldn't be judging each other at all that came out to me most strongly. i don't want to be dismissed as shallow or irresponsible or haughty because i feel better with an expensive haircut and a cute outfit. so how can i possibly feel OK about dismissing someone as lazy or insecure or indifferent because she prefers a ponytail and sweats?

or, as this commenter said, "i have a lot of sympathy for women who’d rather not be caught wearing sweat pants to target, but no admiration for women who criticize other women for doing so."

amen.

because ultimately the story told in our eyes and on our faces, and the reflection of our heavenly father and savior's love in our countenances is the best accessory we can have.

what are your thoughts on the topic?

guess who's paying for dinner?: post script

i was over at segullah on saturday, posting about dating and money. two things that never cause any problems and that everyone can agree on. (not.)

i would, naturally, encourage you to read the whole post, but for my time-pressed fans i offer the following synopsis. the basic gist of the post is that, despite my desire (demand?) for gender parity and equality in nearly everything else, i still expect boys to pay for dates. even (gasp!) when i am pretty sure i make more money than they do.

a shocking revelation to be sure, and i was expecting to be soundly villified in the comments section. to the contrary, however, there was a general defense of my position, which i ultimately found more alarming than an outpouring of hatred.

obviously the "whoever asks, pays" rule of thumb was referenced, and i think that is a good and fair thing, and a rule i abide by myself. but there also seemed to be a consensus that asking on, and particularly paying for dates is just a natural extension and expression of traditional gender roles, and so is to be accepted and even celebrated.

and that is where i lost the bubble.

it happens that i have a thing against gender roles. now, don't get me wrong. i don't have a thing against the obvious truth that men and women are different. and i might even go so far as to say there are things each gender can do that the other cannot. say, childbirth. or maybe benchpressing 200 pounds.

i do not think, however, that paying for dates falls into the category of divinely attributed gender specifics, and the fact that gender roles could be invoked to defend my point of view makes me think that maybe it is a point of view i shouldn't have at all.

my cousin-in-law nate made the argument that seems most sensible to me, which is that though inconsistent with feminist theory, my attachment to the social norm of men paying for dates works to my economic advantage and so, from the standpoint of economic theory it makes perfect sense.

(i also completely agree with nate's assessment that from a cost-benefit analysis, taking me out to dinner also makes perfect sense.)

ultimately though, i think the whole thing boils down to this. marriage relationships should be about partnership and the equal sharing of burdens of all kinds, and who shoulders what type of burden is up for discussion based on every couple's needs and wants. and if the purpose of dating is to prepare us for marriage, then it seems like a good place to practice this sort of give-and-take.

given the aforementioned economic incentive of free dinners, movies and all the rest, i am not sure this is something i can translate from words to deeds with lightning speed, but i have certainly been given cause to think that maybe my approach isn't all that great.

before i make any rash decisions, though, i want to hear more about what you think. so, don't be shy! hop into the comments and let me have it!

(and, if you are a cute boy reading this, don't be shy! hop into the comments and ask me out to dinner! for real.)

well done, sister suffragette

it was 89 years ago on august the 26th that women in these united states of america were granted the right to vote.

and it was last week on august the 26th that we celebrated this most important of milestones.

first came sashes for everyone. (crepe paper was as classy as i could make it. better luck next time.)

then came a sing-along to this classic suffrage anthem.





and then a viewing of "iron jawed angels," a film, and more importantly a story, i love with all my heart.

a few thoughts.

1. the right to vote is one for which we should be grateful every single day. it is a right won just a few short generations ago. there are people living and walking on this earth today who were born before women could vote in the u.s. i can hardly believe that that is true. the fight is still so near, and it makes me want to take the greatest advantage of this privilege possible.

2. justice for one is justice for all. no group, in the majority or the minority, gains anything by denying someone else's rights. and if i believe in rights for my minority, whatever minority that might be, i have to believe in rights for your minority, too. a win for one of us is a win for all of us.

3. sometimes we have to be bold. there is certainly a time for tact and patience, but there is also a time to say what is unpopular and do what is risky. it seems almost ridiculous now that women had to go so far as to put their lives on the line to win the right to vote, but it is true. what boldness do we need now?

4. our daughters' daughters will adore us. suffrage is, to me at least, an enduring and precious legacy. and one that i feel responsible to protect and propagate. i am reminded of hillary clinton's speech at last year's democratic national convention in which she said, "my mother was born before women could vote. my daughter got to vote for her mother for president. this is the story of america."

i love that story.

a few words about breasts

{i was too afraid to do a google image search to match the title of this post, so no picture this time. sorry. but i am sure you can use your imaginations.}

i do not spend very much time talking or thinking about breasts. probably because i have my own, so no big deal. and also probably because my own breasts are, frankly, not that big and not that interesting.

but, i've come across a lot of boob news lately, mostly related to breast-feeding, and it's all pretty captivating stuff. so i thought i might pass it along. (if lent caused such a stir, i can only imagine what the breast-feeding debate will do, but here we go.)

up first, salma hayek's breasts, which, depending on who you are, are probably worth talking about no matter what's going on. they got an abnormal amount of press a few weeks ago, though, when, on a trip to sierra leone, salma hayek breast-fed a baby whose mother had no milk. you can watch it here. (no worries, totally g-rated. or, depending on who you are, sorry. totally g-rated.)

the interweb went crazy with, from what i could tell, public opinion over whether she should have done it or not split right about down the middle. i thought the most compelling argument was "why should we care?" i personally thought it was a touching story, but nothing worth getting all riled up about. not like, say, whether chris brown and rhianna should be back together. (answer: they should not.)

but then, just today, i came across a whole stream of articles about breast-feeding on slate.com. it started with this blog thread, and included a pro argument and a not-so-pro argument.

while i don't look forward to lactation as wistfully as the author of this pro argument, i hadn't ever framed the breast-feeding debate in such stark feminist terms before, and i was honestly a little surprised to discover that some women see it as a shackle of modern housewife-and-motherhood akin to the vacuum cleaner. (there are a lot of good jokes in there about sucking. give it your best shot.) also surprising was the contention that breast-feeding might not do as much good as we would like to think. do with that what you will.

but, breasts aside, the thing i found most interesting of all was the ever-recurring theme that women do themselves the most damage by judging the decisions other women make, or by feeling guilty about their own decisions. whether or not breast-feeding is better, some women are going to do it and some women aren't and choosing sides isn't going to get anyone anywhere. and the same thing goes for all the other debates over how and what it means to be a woman. the ability to make the decisions that are best for us personally without fear of judgement from our peers, would, it seems to me, move everyone toward victory a lot faster.

and the final act in this boob-tastic day involved my well-endowed co-worker and a certain gentleman with a focus problem, giving me the chance to hear for the first time in a real-life context the phrase, "hey, buddy, my face is up here."

so perfect. so cutting. now that's something to be wistful about.

i will not be discouraged. i will not give up. i will fight.

a happy international women's day! to you, and you, and you.

how did you celebrate?

i celebrated with a screening of "a powerful noise," a stunning documentary about women making a difference around the world, which was just what i needed to clear my mind of all the reality tv junk i filled it with this week, and restore some perspective about what's really important. (hint: it is not jason the bachelor.)

the film tells the stories of three women, one in mali, one in vietnam and one in bosnia and herzegovina, working to meet the needs of the women around them. one woman starts a foundation to educate domestic workers so they cannot be taken advantage of and abused by their employers; another an organization to support women living with HIV and provide AIDS prevention education; the third an agricultural co-op so widows left behind by bitter civil war can support themselves and their families and heal damaging ethnic divides. and, in a sort of amazing way, as the women's needs are met, everyone else's needs get taken care of, too.

when you help women, you help everyone.

as the columnist katha pollitt put it, there are no women's issues, only human issues. former secretary of state madeline albright has a slightly less kind way of saying the same thing: there is a special place in hell for women who don't help other women.

consider this. educate a mother, teach her to read and write, teach her a skill and she can start to earn money and support her family on her own. suddenly, she can afford bed nets so her children don't contract malaria. suddenly, her daughters who have been working to help support the family can go to school. suddenly, she is in a place to empower other women. suddenly, her life is changed. her family is changed. her community is changed.

and it just gets bigger.

when you help women, you help everyone.

i often fall victim to the pessimistic (and ultimately avoidant) conception that the problem is just too overwhelming. poverty, infectious disease, abuse and family violence, war. i'm not bono. what can i possibly do?

but today i was reminded that every single little itty bit counts. every single little itty bitty project, every single little itty bitty solution, every single little itty bitty dollar chips away at the bigger problem. and every single little itty bit grows.

i mean, let's face it. if i can spare the money to buy a bunch of clothes i don't need from forever 21, (you're welcome, economy!), i can probably spare the money it would take to help fund a well in a rural village so girls can go to school instead of carrying water all day long.

don't you think? i do.

care to join me? here and here and here are a few places to start.

and then we won't have to worry about going to hell anymore, which will be a big relief.

truth be told

among many other things in which i believe, i believe in telling the truth. now, telling the truth is not always one of my favorite things, but neither is the pythagorean theorum or going to church for three hours a week, and i believe in those things, too. i had to tell the truth-- the real, until-then-hidden truth-- just the other night, and it gave me one bad dream and a 12-hour panic attack. but i believe in being honest about what you think and what you feel and so i did it even though, for a few seconds, i would rather have died. or at least had a brief but life-threatening illness that let me off the hook.

and you know what?

when i was done telling the truth i felt so calm. and relieved. and happy. and i also felt really, really, really brave. i didn't put it in an e-mail. i didn't shove it to the back of my head. i didn't hint around. i said it. out loud. and there was a lot of power for me in that experience, whether or not the anticipation took five years off my life.

and that sort of powerful experience is why i have sort of a problem with the anonymous blogosphere. i started thinking about this back in may, at the rocky mountain retreat, during a panel discussion about mormon feminism on the internet.

now, i recognize that not everyone is as in love with honesty as i am, and that i have been lucky to grow up and exist in environments where it was safe for me to tell the truth. for many of the women on this panel, and at the retreat, the internet had become that environment; a place to find kindred spirits and share thoughts and feelings without fear of repercussions or judgements.

i can certainly see the value in that kind of space. we all need and deserve a place to be open and communicate as ourselves. but i also think hiding behind the mask of anonymity is just that: hiding. and it ends up shortchanging us in the end.

for starters, people say all kinds of invaluable and unkind things when no one knows who they are. (i guess i should clarify that my love affair with honesty does not include the kind that unnecessarily or maliciously hurts people's feelings.) it's plenty easy to be snarky, judgmental or just plain wrong when no one can call you out because they don't know who "you" are. it's sort of like leaving steaming poo on someone's doorstep, ringing the bell and running away (gross). i just don't like it. anonymity can also absolve us of the need to back up what we say. i can rant and rave all i want with no foundation or proof if no one can find me to demand that foundation or proof.

(editor's note: i realize that we are dealing in generalities here, and i hope you do, too. there are, obviously, exceptions to every rule, and some anonymous honesty is worthwhile and valuable. in general, though, i think it just gives us an excuse to be jerks, an excuse we are all too happy to accept whenever we can.)

more importantly, though, i think relying on anonymity to communicate important and hard truths cheats us out of the power of the experience that truth-telling can be. i do agree with the author of this article that your identity is not as important as your message. but, your identity makes your message that much stronger. we grow, we learn, we perfect as we do hard things. and when i am looking for advice, consolation, celebration of a shared experience, i am not looking for anonymous. i am looking for you.

most importantly, i really believe that if we are to see the change that truth promises, we have to be willing and able to put ourselves squarely behind that truth. we have to say it. out loud. with our names and everything else attached. it's all fine and good to vent feelings and frustrations behind the mask, but if i ever want those feelings and frustrations to be resolved, some day i am going to have to woman-up and deal with them in the real world. i am going to have to tell someone what i, not anonymous, thinks and feels. i am going to have to tell the truth.

easy? no. but, for the strength and power i believe the truth gives us, a nightmare and 12 hours of anxiety, even a little embarrassment, vulnerability or judgment, is a small price to pay.

the f(eminism) word

ever since coming home from denver (can one come home from home?) i've wanted to tell you about the rocky mountain retreat, an annual gathering of wonderfully broad-minded and free-thinking mormon women who are devoted to spirituality and truth. some of us call ourselves feminists and some of us do not, but one truth we all believe is that women should have every and equal opportunity to excel, to discover and develop talents that help themselves and everyone else. call it whatever you want, but i think that's an ideal everyone can (or at least should) get behind.

it's also an enormous and complex mission that i could write about for days and still feel like i had barely explored. which is, i think, why i have put off writing about it at all. where to begin? where to go? so i've decided to take baby steps (which seems the best way to approach all things enormous and complex) and tackle one small piece at a time.

first, let me say this. i do call myself a feminist. i didn't always, but i think that was only because i didn't realize the way i lived my life and expected to be treated was something out of the ordinary that needed a name of its own. i grew up in a family and environment where equality was a given, where moms and dads both worked and both did the dishes and both said smart and funny things at the dinner table, where boys and girls were both right and both wrong, both got masters degrees and both cuddled babies. i loved transformers as much as my little ponies and have no memory of ever thinking i couldn't do something, or should do something else, because i was a girl. it wasn't until college that i realized how unusual and lucky my life had been.

for this year's retreat, my mom asked me to sit on a panel about, basically, generational perspectives of feminism. at first i was totally jazzed because "sitting on a panel" sounds really important and grown-up and like i'm really smart and interesting, and every time someone asked me why i was going to denver i would say, "well, i'm sitting on this panel..." but then i got really stressed out because i didn't know what to say and i felt really uninformed and unqualified and it made me pull funny faces and gave me a little bit of a tummy ache. but, it was really fine and completely compelling and i learned a lot, from and about myself and the other women there as well.

in fact, i could probably write a dozen posts (or one super duper incredibly long one) just about the panel. but, baby steps. so i am going to start with this idea, which is a really pertinent one, i think.

one woman in the audience raised her hand and brought up the question of girls in junior high and high school using their bodies and their sexuality to exact and exert power over other people: teachers, friends, boyfriends, parents, even other girls. it's the oldest formula in the book and has endless expressions, but usually goes something like this: cleavage+short skirt-discernible intelligence and/or personality=success. being flat-chested (sternum all the way, baby!) and otherwise generally body-conscious, and being basically incapable of reining in my oversized personality (not to mention my crackling wit and brilliance), this is not a system it has ever occurred to me to employ. but, i have also lived long enough as a girl to understand that this is a real temptation and problem, no doubt borne from a belief that there is no other power a woman can wield. and i am just as much a slave to hair straighteners and mascara and new clothes and cute shoes as the next person (probably even moreso on that last one).

so, what to do?

the ideal solution would be, of course, to root out our damaging, body-obsessed popular culture and replace it with a healthy, nurturing, realistic vision of women and womanhood. seeing as that might take a minute though, i struck upon this idea for the meantime.

it's all well and good to tell girls they shouldn't rely on their bodies and their sexuality to get what they want. but, when you take something away, you have to put something in its place. a bad habit is much easier to get rid of if there is a better habit waiting in the wings to fill the hole. think nicotine gum or words like "fetch." and i don't think this case is any different. if we don't want girls to rely on short skirts and empty heads to get ahead, we have to give them something else to use.

which got me thinking, what is it that we emphasize and value about women, about each other? i guarantee that at least 90 percent of compliments i get have something to do with my physical self. either i am wearing a cute outfit, or my hair looks nice, or i look like i've been working out (read: i look skinny). not that there is anything wrong with these compliments, and i certainly enjoy receiving them, but let's look at the long-term, unintended consequence. if, for example, i am always being complimented on my clothes, i am naturally going to put a lot of time and effort (and, in this case, money) into my wardrobe because i know from experience that i will be validated and valued if i do. but what if, instead, i was always being complimented for being a hard worker, an articulate speaker, a kind friend? it follows that i would put a lot of time and effort into those things instead. can you start to see the difference we could make? just by changing what we say? it's so simple it seems like it can't be true, but i really think it is. certainly as good a place to start as any.

and now, dear readers, a challenge, proposed by another woman at the retreat. it is this: no look-related compliments, for anyone, for a week. or a day or a month or however long you want to try. no, "you're so cute" or "OMG, i love your shoes!" but instead, "you are so thoughtful" or "i admire your organized closet." (hey, i said it was just a place to start.) i think we will all be surprised about the many different and substantive things we find to honor in each other. and ourselves. good luck! (and don't forget to report back!)