Things to Do Other Than Talk About the Election

Alright, folks. I've got some serious election fatigue. Apparently, we've been collectively feeling it since July. To combat the exhaustion and the emotional drain of squinting through my Facebook feed to avoid the political battlefield playing out between internet friends who have no interest in finding a common ground, I've compiled a list of things you can do or talk about other than the election. Before I share this list, however, I want to make one last plug to vote. The right to vote has not always been available to everyone in this country. Women like Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucretia Mott, Lucy Burns, Alice Paul and Crystal Eastman dedicated their lives to fighting for the right to vote, some of them both for themselves and also alongside the abolitionist movement (though not all of them). Some of them withstood physical and verbal abuse, imprisonment, hunger strikes and brutal force feeding in prison to assert their right to having a say in their nation's leadership. Approximately 50,000 people marched in 1965 to protest the systemic and pervasive discrimination that prevented people of color from participating in their right to vote, a right that was technically guaranteed in the 15th Amendment but was actively denied for many until the Voting Rights Act attempted to address voting-based discrimination. People have struggled, suffered and fought to have the right to vote so if you have it, please use it.

And with that, here's a list of things you can do instead of talk about the election:

• Watch a good TV show or movie. It's almost Halloween so it's appropriate to watch Hocus Pocus on repeat. Also Orphan Black, Transparent and the obvious choices of Parks & Rec, The Office and 30 Rock are always good options. 
• Get a massage. If you can't afford a massage, make like Chris Traeger and form a massage train with people around you. 
• Also like Chris Traeger, dance like no one's watching to your favorite tunes (source): 

• Now that I'm thinking about it, you should probably just spend some time watching Parks & Recreation.
• Come to my house and help me humanely handle the mouse situation that is currently terrorizing my kitchen.
• Make yourself a nice meal. Also, make extras for me because there's a mouse in my kitchen.
• Take some fun Buzzfeed quizzes. I personally prefer those that are Harry Potter related. This one is fun. Also this one. And this one is a given (#hufflepuff4eva).
• You know what, while you're at it, you should probably just reread the whole Harry Potter series. Or, if you've managed to make it this far in your life without it, read it for the first time.
• Stay off of social media.
• If you have to go on social media, actively fight the urge to make snarky comments on other people's political posts. 
• Go for a walk. If you're worried about seeing political signs, make yourself a Sensory Deprivator 5000. It may impact your ability to take in the fall beauty, but will also keep you election-protected.
• Do something nice for someone else. Volunteer for a cause you care about if you have the time and the resources. Tell someone you love that you are thinking about them. Hold the door for a stranger. Generally be a decent human being to others.
• Do something nice for yourself. The options are endless. I don't know your life.
• Eat dessert in bed. I did this last night. It was excellent.
• Exercise. Endorphins are awesome and it feels good after dessert in bed.

Need things other than the election to talk about? Here are some suggestions:

• The New Yorker article about the history of the ladder
• dorm options at Johns Hopkins University
• Sonicare instructions
• Accordian music
• Old-timey car horns (please review the 4th suggestion if this list confuses you)
• Literally anything else

If you're opinionated, if you're passionate, if you are dying to share your political views, that's cool. I am too. Just remember that there are a lot of opinions, a lot of emotions and a lot of perspectives out there. Tensions are high and people are tired. I'm tired too. Let's try to be kind, respectful and decent to each other. We still have to live with each other after November 8.

New Season Idea for American Horror Story: Election 2016

Like probably most people, I’ve been equal parts obsessively reading about the upcoming election and trying to avoid looking at any of it. It’s like watching a scary movie. Except this scary movie is real life and it seemingly won’t end. I’m exhausted reading about it – and honestly exhausted talking about it – but I have to get a few things off my chest because this election season hurts, and I know it’s not just me that feels it. 

Image source

I felt it during the primaries when the calls about Hillary Clinton were coming from inside the house; when she was lambasted for “playing the game” and being “too establishment” even though every president to date - and honestly probably every politician -  has played the game. I understand anti-establishment folks’ frustration with that, I truly do, and I don’t blame people for passionately wanting to change things up. I also would love to change things up. However, these comments also rang dismissive and patriarchal in a way that hit me in the gut. It would be impossible for a woman to make it as far as HRC in her political career without playing the game. Because of obstacles put in place by centuries of patriarchal rule, she would have to play the game harder and faster than any of her male counterparts to even make it through the metaphorical door. There is no female Bernie Sanders on the political main stage right now because if a 75 year old woman with very little regard for her appearance who openly identified as a democratic socialist tried to run for president, she wouldn’t even be considered. I’m not criticizing Sanders supporters. I like Bernie Sanders too. But I was also struck by the unbelievable double-standard reinforced in the public rhetoric and the frustration I personally felt. As a woman, I’m not embarrassed to say that I was pumped as hell to have a well-vetted, educated, prepared and seasoned female candidate in the running but I also knew it was only the beginning. Note: if you read that last sentence and said to yourself "HRC is a 'criminal'/'liar'/'predator'/'murderer,'" this may not be the post for you. You are entitled to your opinion as much as I am and I respect that. Please do the same for me. If you really don't like this, don't read it.

And only the beginning it was indeed. After the primaries shit has really hit the fan. I am truly astounded every day when I read the news, look at Facebook or basically do anything that involves other people. Political leanings aside, the aggressive, hypocritical, violent and hateful narrative being emphasized this season has made me withdraw because I can’t. I can’t engage in a discussion about politics because so much of what is being said invalidates my very existence (this link goes back way farther than the election but you get the picture). I can’t be excited or happy that it is very likely we will have the first female president in office because the hateful and hurtful environment fostered in this election has taken that joy away from me. I feel acutely aware of how difficult it is for women (and this is a cisgender, heterosexual, upper-class, white, Christian female– arguably the most privileged position that someone identifying as a woman can hold) to meet the standards set up for us and am overwhelmed by how much work there is left to do to create a supportive and affirming society.  I can’t think about this topic without feeling disheartened, sad and sick to my stomach because I know I’m far from the only one effected. The xenophobic, Islamophobic, classist, ableist and racist messages permeating this election hurt so many. It’s estimated that 8 million adults in the US identify as LGB, 3.3 million people as Muslim, 1.4 million people as transgender, 55 million people as Latino/a/x, 42 million people as Black or African American, 27 million people live with a disability under the age of 65, 43 million people live below the poverty line and 41 million people are foreign-born (Source - this doesn't include considerations for intersectionality). That's a whole lot of people. What are we as a nation telling all of these people by even giving these messages a platform? What is the lasting impact of legitimizing claims that immigrants are criminals (studies have shown that they aren't), building walls will solve problems (it won't) and that the country should be run like a corporation (it shouldn't and many people might suffer if it was)? People who work in, live in and love this country are being assaulted by messages that tell them they are not welcome, not wanted and not supported by the country they belong to and call home. A country, by the way, that was founded on principles of freedom of religion and freedom of speech (including the freedom to protest) and a judicial system based on the mantra "innocent until proven guilty," but I digress. This election will come and go but the impact will continue. Therapists are legitimately worried about our mental health, bullying has increased and distress is climbing. 

I can't wait for this election to be over. I'm tired of continually feeling hurt, upset, angry and disheartened. But I will be able to return to my largely privileged existence fairly easily. I'm sure I will still feel the ripples of misogyny, hate and ignorance but, to be truthful, that's neither new nor solely or even primarily attributable to Trump. He has, however, verified and publicized the existence of issues women have long been speaking out about. But this isn't just about me. Maybe it isn't even about me at all. I'm tired but I feel the need to take one more public stand to say I don't subscribe to the idea that separation is the answer and I will not sit quietly while hateful rhetoric threatens to overwhelm my view of the country I live in. I will stand with those who are actively fighting to make this country better tomorrow than it is today through activism and advocacy and I will use my voice and my privileged position to do what I can to support them. Most importantly, I will vote for the candidate that I believe will best represent the needs of my country and the people in it. Please do the same, even if you disagree with me on who that is. Seriously people, vote.

With that, here's a photo of a chimp and a tiger being BFFs because it's awesome and, if they can do it, so can we.

Source

Where Are the Men? Pussygate and the Bystander Effect

I had to take some time away and now I'm back and trying to avoid a rage spiral. Like many people, I was really supremely pissed when I heard the recording of Donald Trump and other men saying sexually aggressive and demeaning things about women. I'm mad as hell, but likely not for the reason you might think. Obviously what he said was disgusting and degrading. This point has been made and I don't need to spend too much time covering it. However, as I'm processing my thoughts about everything going on, I can't help but ask myself: where were the other men?

What Donald Trump said is par for the course, not just for him but for many men. When he responded to the criticism by saying it's "locker room talk," unfortunately, I know what he means and I think some athletes who are clapping back by saying "that's not what we talk about in locker rooms" are missing the point (though, arguably, many are not). It is no secret that many cisgender,*  heterosexual** men say derogatory, violent or degrading things to and/or about women around other men. Women, arguably, do this too. Society has normalized violent and derogatory language so much that it has become a part of our everyday vernacular. However, due to the power structure in play in a patriarchal environment, the implications for men using this type of language towards and against women are dangerous and scary. I have been both a witness to and a subject of this behavior and can attest first hand that the significant impact these words and actions have is very real. When a man (in my case this has been almost exclusively white, heterosexual, cisgender males) makes a comment that is violent, derogatory or degrading to me, even if he thinks he is joking, the messages I receive are that my body is something to be objectified and sexualized, my emotional and physical safety are not valued, my voice is not important. At that point, it is clear to me that no matter what I say or how eloquently I address the issues at hand, I have lost the conversation. I am not a person of value in the eyes of the speaker and anything I say, no matter how well-articulated, will be invalidated. It's times like these that I find myself looking around wondering, where are my allies? Where are all the men?

Why is it that groups of intelligent, kind, smart, aware people don't feel comfortable, confident or able to have open conversations with their friends about these social issues? I believe that this is due, in part, to the bystander effect. This concept suggests that people are less likely to step in when there are other people present, most often because of social pressure and a perceived diffusion responsibility (the thinking of "no one else is saying anything so why should I?"). So basically, even if one of the men in that van with Trump was uncomfortable with what he was saying, the desire to fit in, not make anyone else uncomfortable and not heighten his own discomfort seems to have trumped (PUN!) the desire to speak up.

It's important to me to note here that I am not blaming men, or anyone, for the bystander effect. I have been an inactive witness to injustice before and understand that speaking out is not as easy as just saying "what you just said reinforces an oppressive patriarchal/heteronormative/white dominant/classist/ableist/cis-gendered social structure and is disrespectful to women/people of color/people who identify as gay, lesbian, bisexual, asexual/people of a lower SES/people who identify as disabled/people who identify as transgender, genderqueer, gender fluid, intersex/etc.." Because that's an easy cool statement to make when someone makes an inappropriate joke at a dinner party, I know. As a woman who holds many privileged identities, I also have to be accountable and figure out how to have similar conversations with people I love, care for and respect. I have to consider how to use my positions of privilege to work towards allyship without coming across as the "social justice police" or projecting some sort of moral high ground (which I certainly do not feel). Call-out culture has its own issues and difficulties and I'm not suggesting that we all go out and start pointing fingers and making people feel bad for making a mistake or being at a different stage of awareness. What I am suggesting is that words are powerful and letting someone know you have their back means something. As an outspoken and opinionated feminist, I have encountered many men who want to talk to me about feminism - some of whom try to tell me what feminism is and is not (*insert side-eye emoji*) but most of whom want to talk about what they can do and how they want to be a part of a culture that recognizes women as equals. I will tell you what I tell them: talking to me about it is great, I love it and I want to support any person who believes in gender and sex equality. But talking to me about feminism, in my humble opinion, isn't enough if you want to make a difference. Talk to your male friends about it. Let them know verbally, and with kindness, when their jokes, words or behaviors reinforce oppressive ideals. Don't put it in the context of "wives" or "sisters" or "mothers" -  my value as a woman does not rest on my relation to other people - but say it from your own perspective. If you truly believe in gender equality, this type of behavior is an affront to your beliefs and values as much as mine. You are in a unique position to make a difference. If you feel safe, please take it.

If you want to learn more about this:, Jackson Katz is an excellent resource. Here's a TED talk he did about male accountability and violence against women.

In closing, here's a quote from bell hooks, one of the most awe-inspiring scholars and writers I've come across:
After hundreds of years of anti-racist struggles, more than ever before non-white people are currently calling attention to the primary role white people must play in an anti-racist struggle.  The same is true to eradicate sexism - men have a primary role to play...in particular, men have a tremendous contribution to make...in the area of exposing, confronting, opposing and transforming the sexism of their male peers.
*mic drop*

*I don't have the experience or knowledge to speak to transgender men in this case, though I imagine their lived experiences and intersectionality would make this conversation quite different and don't want to assume universality for all men.
**Again, I don't have the experience to speak to this issue outside of a heteronormative framework. I do not want to reinforce heteronormativity and am, unfortunately, limited in the scope of my lived experience in this case.