Author Archives: Carrie Hillman

About Carrie Hillman

Carrie Hillman is Curiata.com's resident feminist. She writes the weekly feature A Feminist Sensibility and serves as Managing Editor for the publication. She is married to fellow contributor and editor Mike, and they live in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, with their dog, Beaker.

marriage

What kind of feminist takes her husband’s name?

When Curiata.com was in its infancy, it became clear to me that the female contributors were outnumbered by the men almost 3 to 1. I resolved to start a feminist column to (hopefully) balance out the testosterone on the site.

The Modern Urban Gentleman and I were having a conversation about my column one night and he said, “You know you are going to have to write a column about your name change, right?” And he’s right.

Up until about a year and a half ago, I had always planned on keeping my maiden name. Intellectually, I knew why women changed their last names in the past, and it wasn’t a symbol of a unified family, but rather a designation of property ownership. Further, it seemed to me that everyone in society expected women to just conform and accept their husband’s last name. It’s just what you do! I, for one, despise that argument for anything in life, and it’s one of the things I used to rail against.

So how did I change my mind, and subsequently my name, after getting married? Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. There was never an “aha!” moment when I suddenly knew why I wanted to change my name.

First off, I should state that I do use a combination of my maiden and married name in the professional world — at least for now. My resume says “Carrie Goodyear Hillman” at the top of the page. Part of this is just for practicality. I worked very hard to build an excellent work reputation as Carrie Goodyear, and I felt that completely changing my name would be like throwing all of that hard work out the window. Am I still the same person with the same work ethic? Absolutely. However, our names are extremely similar to the branding of a product. I felt that I (and those around me) needed a transition period.

But none of this answer the question as to why I changed my name. If anything, it makes the argument for why I should have just kept my maiden name. But here’s the rub: Mike and I are not what I would consider a “traditional” couple, though what we are is becoming increasingly common. We cohabited for three years before getting married, which means that we are either going to be just fine in our marriage or we are destined to get a divorce, depending on which study you read. We don’t strictly adhere to traditional gender roles. This was evident over the weekend where our basement started taking on water worse than anything Noah experienced. Today, we both have painful hands and Drylok caked under our fingernails.

In my mind, marriage wasn’t going to change the dynamic of our relationship too drastically. I mean, we already lived together, a marriage ceremony is largely symbolic and, really, it’s the day-in, day-out of a relationship that determines the couple’s level of commitment, not the marriage ceremony itself. So, to our friends and family, we were already a unit, already a team. They received their Christmas cards from the Goodyear/Hillman household.

But, the thought struck me, how would we convey to the outside world that we were in this together? Yes, I would have my wedding band, but there’s something extremely unifying about sharing a last name.

On the other hand, I’ve had a lot of people ask me why I didn’t hyphenate my last name. It was a purely selfish reason. I didn’t want to have to sign Carrie E. Goodyear-Hillman every single time I swiped my credit card. When I was signing as Carrie E. Goodyear, I would get annoyed by the time I reached the “y.”

There are times when I feel like I have to defend my actions to other feminists. But then I realize that is just silly. We have come a long way in women’s rights, but globally we have a long way to go. The marital name change is no longer a requirement or a demonstration of ownership. I changed my name because I wanted to, and because I felt that it was the best decision for me — and that, my friends, is what feminism is all about.

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HIMYM favorite episodes: ‘Swarley’

After nine seasons, the final episode of How I Met Your Mother airs in the United States on Monday, March 31. Curiata.com is reliving the series this week by looking back at our favorites of the 208 episodes.

Part of the strength of How I Met Your Mother lies with the character development. Each character has a niche to fill and he or she does so quite perfectly. One of my favorite characters is definitely Barney Stinson. Let’s face it: ladies want to be with him, guys want to have his bro-tacular skills. It also doesn’t hurt that Neil Patrick Harris is extremely easy on the eyes.

Barney is rarely rattled by anything and can always make up stories for why he needs to leave his one-night stand. My personal favorite is the letter Barney leaves behind explaining that he is a ghost who can only materialize once every decade on the anniversary of his death.

As a character, Barney has evolved from a douchebag to a lovable character to Robin’s husband. How did he do this? In my opinion, it all started with the “Swarley” episode in the second season. The episode opens as a nod to Friends. The boys are sitting on a couch, drinking coffee, when they decide that hanging out in a coffee shop is much lamer than hanging out in a bar. Ted notices that Marshall’s cup has a little heart drawn by his name and concludes, with his Mosby Boys detective skills, that that barista must have a crush on Marshall.

Marshall defends the doodle and says that maybe she draws hearts on all of her cups. Ted and Barney glance at their cups and find no hearts, but do notice that Barney’s name has been misspelled as Swarley. Barney starts a rant where he says that Swarley isn’t even a name, and he realizes by the end of said rant that Marshall and Ted are now going to call him Swarley.

Throughout the episode we see Marshall going on a date with a woman who isn’t Lily and we learn the premise of “crazy eyes” and “jerk nails.” At the end of the episode, we even see the return of Marshmallow and Lilypad, the barfiest couple in all of Manhattan. But for me, the crux of the episode is watching Barney freak out every time someone calls him Swarley. (Or really, any variation thereof: paging Swarles Barkley!)

Watching Barney become so unhinged that he can’t finish sentences gives the audience a special glimpse into his insecurities. As the series progresses, we learn more about Barney’s history and why he is the way he is, ranging from the lies about his parentage from his mother to his devastating relationship with college girlfriend Shannon. “Swarley” is the first step in this long line of the evolution of Barney. By the end of the episode, Barney seems to reluctantly accept his fate during a Cheers montage at MacLaren’s Pub.

I know that there are a lot of people out there that detest the Barney Stinson character because he is a womanizer, has one night stands, and lies to get women in bed. In real life, everyone deals with his or her own insecurities any way they can. Furthermore, I think we fall in love with these characters, we invite them into our homes every week, and that we forget they are just that: fictional characters used to carry on the story lines. I have to wonder if Barney’s critics are possibly seeing some small portion of themselves — which they dislike — in his character, and that scares the hell out of them.

One of the things that makes a series finale so sad is that we will no longer get to watch these characters grow and evolve. However, I think we are all excited to see how things will turn out for our favorite five, even if one small portion of the finale will break our hearts.

Best line: “I signed him up for People en Español, but I addressed it to ‘Swarlos.'” — Robin

Best Cutaway: Barney’s one-night stand with a “crazy eyes” girl (Inara!) and her teddy bear

Mother Lore: Still none!

steinem

Happy 80th birthday, Ms. Steinem

On this day in 1934, a baby named Gloria entered the world. No one could have imagined the profound impact this future advocate would have on women’s rights in her lifetime. Steinem is often called the mother of feminism, and it’s not hard to see why.

First, a bit of history; there are three distinct waves of feminism. The first wave of feminism took place in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. During this period, activists like Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and Lucretia Mott were focused not only on the property and voting rights of women but also on the abolition of slavery. Through their hard work, they reformed existing social standards and were successful in getting women the right to vote.

The second wave of feminism began in the 1960s and runs congruently with third-wave feminism to the present. While first-wave feminism focused on suffrage and changing existing sexist laws, second-wave feminism broadened the discussion to empower women in their sexuality, families, reproductive rights, and workplaces. Steinem is one of the most prominent women to emerge from this wave of feminism.

Third-wave feminism is a bit trickier to define. The term was coined in the 1990s as a backlash against the failings of second-wave feminism, mainly that the second wave was a movement created by upper-middle-class white women and didn’t account for the opinions and cultures of women from more diverse backgrounds. Steinem, considered a second-wave feminist, nonetheless addressed many third-wave concerns as well, working with many civil rights activists including Coretta Scott King and Cesar Chavez.

I consider myself a third-wave feminist and would even argue that we are actually headed for a fourth wave of feminism. A fourth wave would broaden the discussion of women’s equality to a global scale.

All of this is well and good, but if it weren’t for the work of Ms. Steinem, I wouldn’t be having this discussion at all today. Before she was a political activist, Steinem was a journalist. One of her most famous pieces was written for Show magazine. Steinem was employed as a Playboy Bunny at the New York Playboy Club. The article “A Bunny’s Tale,” published in 1963, shed light on the exploitative treatment of the Bunnies and the legal murky sexual demands that were made of them. After her work on the piece, Steinem had a hard time finding writing jobs, a failing that Steinem attributes to her time as a Bunny.

In 1968, she landed a job with the newly created New York magazine. After her time with New York, Steinem co-founded one of the first feminist-focused magazines, Ms. The magazine was shocking for the 1970s because, at that time, most publications for women focused on child rearing, cooking and cleaning tips, keeping a satisfied husband, and proper makeup application. Instead, Ms. concentrated (and still concentrates) on women’s reproductive rights, politics, and social activism.

When the Ms. preview debuted, the syndicated columnist James J. Kilpatrick jeered that it was “C-sharp on an untuned piano,” a note “of petulance, bitchiness, or nervous fingernails screeching across a blackboard.” After hitting the newsstands for the first issue, network news anchor and 60 Minutes creator Harry Reasoner said he would “give it six months before they run out of things to say.” Ms. is still in publication today and the magazine can boast the best coverage of global women’s rights and politics.

In addition to her work in journalism, Steinem was an ardent political voice for many different issues, including reproductive rights, the Equal Rights Amendment, opposition to the Vietnam War, and LGBT equality.

Because of Steinem’s work, I get to write a blog every week about how far we’ve come in feminism. I can discuss pop culture things like Oscars fashion and professional wrestling. Because of her work, I can talk about politics and government and my place in them. Most importantly, because of her (and women like her), I have the courage to tell you stories about discrimination when they happen to me.

It’s fitting that Ms. Steinem’s birthday falls in March. March is Women’s History Month, and our history would be much different if Gloria Steinem hadn’t taken the path she did. Truthfully, I’m excited to see where the movement will take us in another 52 years, when I’ll be nearing my 80th birthday. In the meantime, I’ll just have to live by Gloria’s sage wisdom: “The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off.”

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Currency of virginity could use some deflation

Last spring, I was plowing through my reading list, and I finally made time for The Purity Myth by Jessica Valenti. I’ve always been a huge fan of Valenti’s work, from the time I was introduced to her Full Frontal Feminism during college. Valenti is the kind of writer that challenges me to see the world in a different way, and while I may not always agree with her 100 percent, she makes me a better person by providing a different lens through which to view the world.

In The Purity Myth, Valenti notes that there is no medical definition of virginity and, furthermore, a clinical definition of virginity can not possibly fit both genders. If the concept of virginity is tied to a specific physical act — vaginal intercourse — it creates an outsize burden on the female: the physical transformation of the act of intercourse is something a male can never experience. And a physical definition of virginity is irrelevant in same-sex relationships.

Virginity, and often times the lack thereof, is a concept that I have struggled with for a long time. As a society, we encourage young ladies to “hold on” to their virginity because it’s so precious. Moreover, any young woman who decides that she will not remain a virgin is often forced to bare the label “slut”.

I’m certainly not advocating that sex is something that should be taken lightly. It’s not. It can adversely affect your health and welfare if the proper precautions are not taken. I’ve advocated on this site for a calm and rational sexual education, which is good and important, but perhaps we need to be spending more time thinking about the mental health aspect of sex, specifically virginity.

The reality is that we live in a world where young girls are auctioning off their virginity to the highest bidder. This is because we, as a society, have delivered a message that virginity is valuable, that it’s a commodity in demand. I have to wonder how the world would change if we stopped thinking this way. What if, instead, we told young girls that, yes, sex is a big deal, but there is no value to the physical reality of an intact hymen.

I know that’s a pretty radical thought for today; it’s even a bit jarring to see it there in front of me in black and white. I think one of the reasons this concept is so frightening is because young girls use their virginity as a morality guide. It’s not difficult to see how removing virginity as a criterion for morality can lead down the path of a slippery slope argument, where all of the human race goes to hell because we will all get chlamydia and die.

I’ve stated before that feminism is about taking the path that you want to take. I certainly don’t mean to be advocating the position that everyone should be out there sexing it up. I have friends my age who still consider themselves virgins; they totally own that position, and it works for them. They adopt that Cher Horowitz ideal: “You see how picky I am about my shoes, and they only go on my feet!”

All I’m asking is that we take away the pressure associated with remaining a virgin. Let’s turn the focus to empowering women to make informed decisions, to have healthy sexual relationships without stressing the virginity question. OK, and maybe I’m asking for a little bit more discussion with families and in the classroom regarding the mental health component of sex and, specifically, the first time any individual engages in sexual activity.

Most of the views I’ve mentioned above took a long time to cultivate and, honestly, they are still changing with every intellectual morsel I digest. That’s the wonderful thing about being human; we get to change our minds and evolve. I’m sure if my husband and I ever get around to cultivating tiny humans, my opinions on this matter may evolve again.

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Old-school feminism still needed to this day

I have spent my first few columns talking about unconventional ways of being a feminist: I’ve argued that a feminist doesn’t have to be a man-hater. I advocated for equal treatment of the sexes in professional wrestling. I defended the practice of critiquing Oscars fashion. But sometimes, reality slaps us in the face with some good, old-fashioned sexism, forcing feminists back to basics.

During discussions with friends and coworkers about feminism, I often run into the sentiment that feminism isn’t really needed anymore. Women are a protected class in employment, and basic rights, like voting, are guaranteed. We are free to pursue a career or to stay at home as we see fit. Even barriers in the most male-dominated walks of life, including the military, are falling.

All of this is true and good, but each of these protections is merely a legal designation. The law does not dictate attitudes or the day-to-day treatment of women. Discrimination based on sex still exists today. For most women, overt discrimination is not a daily problem. Sometimes, I go months without facing it. But when it does happen, it stings like a slap in the face.

One of the many hats I wear is as an employee in the retail shop at a sports recreation venue. In addition to selling merchandise, the store also functions as our pro shop, so I have been trained to assess equipment to determine what repair or service they may need. I have received the same training as my male colleagues, and science has yet to find compelling evidence to suggest that my physiology has any effect on my ability to examine sports equipment. Nonetheless, over the past weekend, I endured two different instances in which I was put down simply for being a woman.

Several days ago, a man who I estimate was in his late 60s or early 70s came into the shop to have his equipment serviced. He stated that he wasn’t sure what kind of service they required. I looked them over and recommended a specific type of tuning. He looked at me and said, “I would appreciate if you would go get one of the guys from the back to look at them.” I smiled, gritted my teeth, and ventured into the back of the shop looking for the male technician on duty. He looked over the equipment and recommended the exact same service I did.

To say I was furious would have been an understatement. To make matters worse, I was simply told that the industry was a “boys’ club” and I’d just have to get used to it. I’m sorry, but no, I don’t have to get used to it. There is no reason why I, or anyone, should be a victim of discrimination because someone else is trapped by ignorant thinking.

Not 24 hours later, I was on duty again. Another man, this one seeming to be in his early 50s, was having trouble with his footwear. I was working on them with some tools I had been trained to use, and he stated that, as a machinist by trade, he was uncomfortable with a female using tools on his equipment.

At this point, I was literally speechless. I had no words to either defend myself or chastise him. I finished what I was doing, and he insisted that something still wasn’t quite right. I summoned the male technician again; he took the footwear apart and put it back together. Magically, the customer found the problem had been solved. After the man left, I asked the technician if he had done anything different then I had. He informed me he had not.

The message here was loud and clear: you are a female; therefore, you are incapable of this.

No laws were violated in these cases, but that does not mean I was not discriminated against. I was belittled and dismissed for no reason other than being female. This is why we still need individuals, both female and male, to stand up and say, “Yes, I am a feminist, and actions like this are offensive.”

The topic of gender roles is a deep, deep well. We can debate the value of the yin and the yang in two-parent households on another day. But we should all be able to concede some simple points about the absurdity of some “traditional” perspectives about what men and women cannot do.

Maybe I don’t have the same physical strength to drive a sledgehammer as my husband or my father does. But the fine motor skills, like tuning and tapping, that I employ in my job? We know that a woman’s ability to operate basic hand tools like a screwdriver or a hammer has little to do with our double-X chromosomes. More to the point, there are men in this world who wouldn’t even know which end of the hammer to hold, so to assume that men are automatically better at mechanical things is just plain silly.

There are certain skills that both men and women would find useful to make it through a lifetime: knowing how to swing a hammer is one, doing a load of laundry properly is another. Neither of these skills should be exclusive to sex, and yet somehow, even in 2014, they are inextricably linked by some.

I came home after these two instances and relayed the stories to my husband. Being the modern urban gentleman that he is, he was appalled that people not only still thought this way, but that they weren’t even embarrassed to display such discrimination in public. Unfortunately, even the most dedicated male feminists will never face this issue in the way a female will. The burden falls on women to fight this backward and offensive way of thinking. And that’s why old-school, girl-power feminism is still relevant today.

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Don’t be afraid to rate Oscars fashion

In the first edition of “A Feminist Sensibility,” I mentioned the unfortunate practice of calling out feminists for not being “feminist enough.” This time of year, I find myself defending my feminism more than ever because I enjoy talking about the makeup, heels, and sparkly dresses on all our favorite stars of film, television, and stage.

I absolutely love awards season in Hollywood. I know there are individuals out there who feel like the whole thing is nothing more than Hollywood patting itself on the back, but I think it’s a great time when we get to recognize not just actors, but directors, writers, make-up artists, and all the other participants who contribute to our entertainment.

I love watching the red carpet coverage on E!, and I sometimes find myself defending my enjoyment of this to those around me, and sometimes even to myself. But I’ve come to realize that my love of fashion and the pleasure I get from watching red carpet coverage doesn’t need to conflict with my feminist sensibility.

To me, fashion is wearable art. It conveys a message to the world around you about your style, sense of adventure, and overall personality. The Oscars ceremony, held last Sunday, is the grandest of them all, and the grown-up equivalent to prom. It is also definitely the most decadent when it comes to wardrobe choices.

If I had to sum up this year’s Academy Awards fashion in one word it would be “timeless.” The actresses that made their way down the carpet mostly favored a structured, old Hollywood glam look. Some of my favorites in these classy starlet gowns were Sandra Bullock, Amy Adams, Kate Hudson, and Charlize Theron.

There were some other actresses that shied away from the structured fabrics and tailored designs in favor of more flow or a glitzy look. Two of these notable standouts were Lupita Nyong’o and Cate Blanchett. Nyong’o looked stunning in a long, flowing, pale blue Prada dress. She stated in one red carpet interview that she actually participated in the design process for that dress. Blanchett was breathtaking in an Armani gown that made her glow like a chandelier.

I thought all the ladies looked at least “good,” although some could have raised the bar to “excellent” by choosing dresses that were better-suited to their age or body type. I adore Anna Kendrick, and I hope someday she will marry into my family so we can sing duets and go shopping together. Despite my affection for her, I think she missed the mark with her dress. She’s so youthful, light, and stunning; that dress was a little too gothic, too dark, and too matronly, all in one fell swoop. I think the gothic look can be extremely well done, and Kendrick probably could have pulled it off if she would have committed to the overall look, but as it was, the dress paired with that make-up and those accessories felt disjointed.

Let me just take a moment to share my thoughts with everyone about Liza Minnelli. Liza was rocking an age-appropriate pantsuit in cobalt blue with matching blue hairstreaks. As soon as she hit the red carpet, critics were taking to Twitter to chastise her for not wearing appropriate (or any) undergarments, some even calling it obscene. If Liza were a 20-something with perky breasts going sans bra, would people be calling it obscene or just plain hot? The idea that it’s acceptable for young, attractive women with tight bodies to go without a bra, but not the older ladies, is just plain ridiculous. Personally, I wouldn’t go to an awards show without a bra or cups in my dress, but if there is someone who feels comfortable enough with her own body to do so, more power to her.

As for the male fashion, I’ve been trying to encourage The Modern Urban Gentleman for his comments, but I’m not sure that he’ll weigh in, so I’ll give you my thoughts. It always seems that the ladies get to express themselves way more than the men do at these awards shows, so I was happy to see some variances from the standard black tuxedo. I really enjoyed Will Smith‘s fashion statement: a classic suit, but instead of the traditional accouterments, he completed the look with a patterned necktie scarf and matching pocket square. Another notable look was Ryan Seacrest in his white dinner jacket with black pants and black bow tie. Interestingly, Jared Leto sported an almost identical look, but opting for a maroon bow tie instead. Last, but not least, I’m giving out my best classical black tie look award to Chiwetel Ejiofur. The only mistake in that ensemble was pairing a tux with a wristwatch. It’s the Oscars, my friend: Where else could you possibly have to be?

Feminism is about standing up and declaring that you will not let someone else tell you what you should or shouldn’t do or like. So if you are a secret fashionista, come out of hiding and let me know: Did I miss any of your favorites? Leave your thoughts in the comments!

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Wrestling network chance for Divas to make moolah

In this week’s edition of “A Feminist Sensibility,” we are talking about the world of professional wrestling. During the course of this article, I focus on WWE, largely because it is the brand I am most familiar with and also has the largest female roster in the world of professional wrestling.

First, a little bit of back story. My husband, brother-in-law, and many of their friends are huge WWE fans. When my husband, near the beginning of our relationship, revealed he was a WWE fan, I was astonished. I hadn’t realized that: 1) professional wrestling was still televised, and 2) grown men were fans.

Through the beginning of our relationship, I would watch the “longest running, weekly episodic show on television” in an effort to be the “cool” girlfriend. Soon after that, I was invited to a Royal Rumble pay-per-view viewing party. I was extremely overwhelmed and completely unable to contribute to conversations. I spent most of the night asking, “Who is the one in the purple underwear again?”

Fast-forward four years and I still do not consider myself a “WWE fan,” but I can at least hold a conversation about the participants and tell you who I like and dislike.

Last month, WWE once again held its annual Royal Rumble event. For my husband’s family, this is an occasion marked with pizza, celebration, games, and even prizes. I usually attend this event and lament that my favorite wrestler, Evan “Air” Bourne is nowhere to be found these days.

As I watched this year’s Royal Rumble, I was struck by the lack of female characters. Throughout the pay-per-view, the only women were an announcer and an occasional clip showcasing Stephanie McMahon, the daughter of Vince McMahon, the Chairman of the Board and Chief Executive Officer of WWE. Even during weekly episodes of Raw, the Divas matches are usually short, uninspired, and contain stereotypical female plot lines.

As a feminist, I’m hugely enamored with the concept of female wrestling. It should be a place where women are able to buck the traditional concepts of gender, focus on building muscle mass alongside the guys, and just wrestle. Unfortunately, the practice of female wrestling, at least in the realm of WWE, turns into a beauty contest and not an athletic event. I’m not saying a woman can’t be both beautiful and strong, because I absolutely think she can. What I am saying is that WWE seems to be more worried about the hair, makeup, and breast implants of their Divas more than actually fostering any wrestling talent they may have.

Furthermore, young female wrestlers who show talent and aptitude in the ring are often forced to take it down a notch for mass appeal. When the wrestler A.J. Lee debuted, I was extremely excited because I liked her and her persona of a nerdy, quirky, non-traditional ass-kicker. She had the potential to join the ranks of other female trailblazers in the industry, including The Fabulous Moolah and the recently departed Mae Young.

True to form for WWE, though, A.J.’s story line quickly spiraled downhill until she was just an accessory to the guys’ action. She was messing with all the male Superstars’ heads, was nearly married off, and was deemed “crazy.” I was no longer excited to see her on the screen and, in my mind, she was downgraded as “just another pretty face.”

As an aside, since I know someone will bring it up if I don’t, let’s talk about the Divas’ skimpy outfits for just a moment. Let me be clear: I have zero problems with the outfits the Divas wear in the ring. This is one instance where I think the men and women are truly equal. The men wear outfits that are just as revealing, and at this point, it’s not about objectification of the body, but more about showing the athleticism of those in the ring. So an occasional boob pops out, but there’s no difference between the guys who ogle Summer Rae and me hoping that I get a glimpse of Christian’s tush.

It is easy to blame the lackluster Divas division on the man at the top of the company. Perhaps the lack of creativity isn’t entirely Vince McMahon’s fault, though. It may just be a reflection of wrestling fans at-large, and that is the conversation we need to be having to change the dynamics.

During the Royal Rumble main event last month, the “WWE Universe” was extremely upset that Daniel Bryan was not a participant in the 30-man battle royal. At the reveal of the final Rumble entrant, the mostly male crowd started chanting, “We want Divas!” The chant was an insult aimed at the organizers and writers. The implication: the inevitability of Batista winning the match was so bad that even watching Divas wrestle would have been a more appealing option.

As a woman watching the Royal Rumble, I was insulted by the “We want Divas” chant. You are damn right I wanted Divas, but not because I was unsatisfied by the Royal Rumble match, but because when I’m watching WWE, I’d like to see something I can relate to (and no, Total Divas is not the answer). I understand WWE has to be extremely careful about putting men and women in the ring together. I’m absolutely certain the last thing McMahon wants to see on-screen in the contemporary, PG-rated version of WWE is a male wrestler beating up a female wrestler, creating a visual representation of domestic violence. But that isn’t to say the current path of WWE is “female friendly.”

If there is one thing I can give McMahon credit for, it is his ability to see how things can change in the future. One of the reasons WWE has been so successful as a company is largely due to McMahon’s ability to see the potential of a nationwide cable television audience before anyone else. What’s more is he’s proving his business savvy once again with the creation of the WWE Network, which debuted yesterday.

I believe McMahon and company have a chance to change my mind and possibly even turn me into a “fan.” With the new network, WWE has a unique opportunity to expand and experiment with what would attract (and keep) a feminist audience. As a first step, I would suggest WWE actually try to employ a female writer (or two, but let’s not get too radical) for the network, since there aren’t any in the company as of now.

I also believe there are men out there who would enjoy a more robust Divas division. I believe this because I watch wrestling with some of these men, and these men send money to McMahon on a regular basis. This is why, even if McMahon doesn’t share my Feminist Sensibility, I hold out hope that he will see the error of his ways when it comes to the Divas and will work with some female creative writers to make the Divas division the best thing it possibly can be — and make some money while he’s at it.

So Mr. McMahon, if you are reading this, please give me a call. I’d love to be the first female creative writer for you, and I’ve got a lot of great ideas on how to make the Divas brand soar.

philomena

Philomena promotes forgiveness in face of pain

If you were suddenly face-to-face with an individual who had caused you great pain for over 50 years, would you be able to forgive him or her? Philomena challenges viewers with that question by taking them on a touching journey for answers and closure.

The movie Philomena is based on the book The Lost Child of Philomena Lee by Martin Sixsmith, a journalist and former adviser in the British government. The film follows Martin and Philomena Lee, an elderly, devout Irish Catholic woman, on their journey to find her son, Anthony, whom she birthed at the age of 15. Unable to deal with a pregnant teen, Philomena’s father had sent her to the Sean Ross Abbey to deliver her baby and pay off her debt to the nuns for the subsequent four years.

One day, Philomena learns that Anthony has been adopted and has been taken away without her consent or knowledge. Eventually, Philomena leaves the convent, keeps her past a secret, and builds a family. Finally, after 50 years, Philomena breaks her silence and tells her daughter about Anthony and her time at the convent. Philomena’s daughter pitches the story to Martin, who is looking for a way to bounce back from the nadir of his career, at a cocktail party.

What follows is an excellent portrayal of a truly fascinating human interest story. The duo travels around the world, following leads and piecing together Anthony’s life. In the end, Philomena’s search comes full circle and she finds herself back at the Abbey for a few final questions.

While the story on its own is interesting and heartfelt, what gave the plot even more depth was the juxtaposition of the characters Martin and Philomena. For all intents and purposes, Philomena and Martin are complete opposites.

Martin, played by Steve Coogan (who also co-wrote the screenplay and produced the film), is an academic with a penchant for sarcasm who doesn’t have a simple answer for if God exists. He is generally distrusting of most people and is often angry with everyone surrounding him.

Philomena, portrayed by Dame Judi Dench, is a simple woman with amazing faith in God. While not a member of the intellectual elite, she is still wise in her own way and manner, having worked as a nurse for most of her adult life. She wants to treat everyone kindly and seems to have a knack for making friends wherever she goes. Rather than be angry and dissatisfied with the world, she chooses to be happy and make the best of any situation.

Putting these two unlikely mates in a car and on a transcontinental flight makes for some unexpectedly funny moments in light of the seriousness of their mission. The moment that made me laugh out loud was seeing Philomena describe the plot of Big Momma’s House: “It’s about a little black man pretending to be a big black lady. It looked hilarious, Martin!”

I’m not sure it needs to be mentioned, but Dench’s portrayal of Philomena was extremely heartfelt and moving. While I personally connected more to the character of Martin, Dench’s Philomena was everything a protagonist should be: relatable, friendly, compassionate, and an all-around good person. She impresses on the viewer that she finds no comfort in indignation and would rather move on with her life than wallow in the sorrows of the past. Instead of choosing to be angry, she chooses to forgive.

Near the end of the film, Philomena and Martin confront one of the surviving nuns who had contributed so much pain to the woman over half a century. In this scene, I would have certainly taken the path of Martin. When Martin presses the nun for an explanation, she states that losing her son was Philomena’s punishment to bear for her sins of the flesh. She then snaps at Martin about how Jesus is the only one who can judge her for her actions.

If I were in Philomena’s shoes, I would have then chastised the nun for her self-anointed role as God, judge, and jury. Upon reflection, Philomena’s reaction of forgiveness probably puts the nun in her place more so than any passionate lecture I would have given. Sometimes it is the simplest words and phrases that have the deepest impact. Those three little words, “I forgive you,” can take the wind out of sails of the righteous and bring peace and calm to those who desperately need it.

While Philomena was a solid choice for a Best Picture nominee, I highly doubt the Academy will be awarding it the highest honor. Even though the film had it all in terms of emotion, it lacked a certain punch that the Best Picture films have had over the past few years. I’m not sure the Catholic Church’s sins in this movie will resonate with voters as resoundingly as those of the Texas bull riders in Dallas Buyers Club or the American slave owners in 12 Years a Slave. However, missing out on this nominee would be a mistake for any fan of cinema.

jane-austen

‘A Feminist Sensibility’: What a feminist looks like

This will come as no shock to those who know me: I am, and always have been, a feminist. I spent my high school and college years fighting loudly against gender stereotypes and injustices, either real or perceived. Although I’m much more reserved in my feminism now, I still look at the world through a feminist lens, and I think it is vitally important to provide a feminist voice in every hot debate.

I’ve decided to bring that perspective here to Curiata.com. Each week, I’ll be spending some time discussing one of a myriad of topics — pop culture, news, sports, and even fashion — from a feminist point of view. Most of my colleagues here consider themselves feminists (even the boys), and I’m hoping they may even chime in every once in a while on a topic that I’m just not as familiar with.

So, let’s get started with a fundamental question: What is feminism? There are a lot of definitions and conceptions out there; however, I think the simplest (and best) explanation is straight out of Merriam-Webster: feminism is “the belief that men and women should have equal rights and opportunities.”

It is important to note what that definition does not say. Not all feminists are man-haters, nor do we think we should run the planet (although, a planet run by a fem-puter Bea Arthur might be fun!). Being a feminist is far more complicated than world domination.

As a feminist, I believe that if a man wants to take six or more weeks of paternity leave after the birth of a child, he should be afforded the opportunity to do so.

As a feminist, I believe we have an obligation to continue to work to break the glass ceiling and close the pay gap.

As a feminist, I believe a woman is no more or less of a woman whether or not she decides to get married (to either a man or another woman).

As a feminist, I believe a woman is no more or less of a woman whether or not she decides to have children.

As a feminist, I believe if a woman chooses to have children, she should not be obligated to stay at home nor obligated to return to work, but rather be able to choose the path that is the best fit for her.

As a feminist, I believe I have an obligation to educate others on the status of women in other countries. Whether it is an easy topic to talk about, like the fact that approximately only 15 percent of females in Afghanistan can read and write, or a topic that can be stomach-turning, like the fact that approximately 90 percent of women in Eritrea will suffer female genital mutilation. Ignoring the mistreatment of women in other countries will not do anyone a bit of good.

As a feminist, I wear makeup, high heels, and dresses.

As a feminist, I wear jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers.

As a feminist, I drink wine.

As a feminist, I drink beer.

As a feminist, I drink Scotch.

As a feminist, I drink … well, you get the picture.

These are just a taste of the feminist beliefs that make up my worldview, to whet your appetite for the discussions we’ll have in the coming weeks. I’m excited to begin this column and to have you join me every week for a little fun feminism.

I want this to be a conversation; please feel free to share your thoughts on anything I bring up in the comments below. I do, however, have one request: no name calling. I’m not just talking to the “anti-feminists” of the world. There is a sentiment within some parts of the feminist movement that engages in calling out women who are “not feminist enough.” That has got to stop.

Feminists are working toward the same ends, and it will be a lot easier (and much more peaceful) to cross that finish line if we work together. And even though we may never see true equal rights for men and women around the globe during our lifetimes, I believe the kinder we are to one another, the more likely we are to achieve this goal.

With that out of the way, I hope you’ll join me next Tuesday for my first “real” feminist column. It may seem an unlikely place to start, but if you knew the men in my life, you’d understand why I feel compelled to explore the male-dominated world of … professional wrestling!

2014-olympics

Sochi Olympic terror scare overblown, not new

The Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia, are just over a week away, and I, for one, could not be more excited. Unfortunately, unrest and threats of terrorism in the area of the Games are distracting many from celebrating the core principles that have guided the Olympics for over a century.

The Olympics are one of my favorite events of all-time, and I love the Games for a lot of different reasons. I have a great respect for all the athletes involved in the competitions. The sheer dedication it takes to become an Olympic athlete is something I wish I could replicate in my everyday life.

In fact, in a meager attempt to emulate the athletes’ focus and commitment, I challenge myself during each Olympics to put many hours into completing a difficult knitting project. Two years ago, I completed an entire sweater in the first week of the Games, which should have earned me at least a bronze medal.

But most of all, I love the Olympics because the Games symbolize unity, peace, and multiculturalism. I understand that the threat of a terrorist attack at the Games is real, and that threat must be reported and investigated. However, I worry that misplaced media coverage is creating irrational fears and distorting our perspective on the risks and consequences of acts of terror.

First, some historical context: Targeting the Olympics to make a statement is certainly not a new idea. In 1936, Hitler used the Summer Games as a platform for his propaganda of racial supremacy. In 1972, Germany had hopes of erasing this image from the world’s mind when they hosted the Summer Games in Munich; unfortunately, the long-time unrest between Israel and the Palestinians spilled into the Olympic spotlight when the Palestinian group Black September kidnapped and ultimately killed 11 members of the Israeli Olympic team.

Then, in 1996, Eric Robert Rudolph bombed the Centennial Olympic Park in Atlanta to protest the government’s stance on abortion. To this day, I fail to see the correlation between the Olympics and women’s reproductive rights, but I digress.

A terrorist attack at the 2014 Games would be a tragedy. But as history shows, it would not be the first such attack. And while the loss of a single human life, anywhere in the world, is to be avoided if possible and mourned if not, the scope of a potential attack must be viewed in proportion.

What we have, though, is a 24-hour news cycle generating a never-ending stream of worry. Instead of a single, front-page article reporting the threat on the Games, we are bombarded with media outlets showing coverage of burning buildings and giving us geography lessons on the location of the Caucasuses (they’re here). Most, if not all, of the American mainstream media have written headlines and stories that give off the vibe that a terrorist attack is imminent.

The sensationalist coverage is having tangible effects. Some Americans have even begun to cancel their travel plans in order to watch the Games from the security and safety of their own homes. After seeing the aforementioned coverage, who can blame them? Instead of reporting the facts, the majority of news outlets, in their unquenchable thirst for ratings and page clicks, are creating a narrative out of “what ifs” and “could bes” that is altering the course of the Games themselves.

Let’s be real. We live in a world where a terrorist attack could happen at any time, on any day. The Olympics are obviously a logical target, but the event has gone off without a hitch 47 other times. In fact, the most dangerous attacks are the everyday ones, the ones no one has planned for: the attacks of Sept. 11, the Boston Marathon bombings, the car explosions and suicide missions that are a part of the everyday life of people all over the world and receive nearly no coverage in our media.

I have to wonder if our visceral reaction to the safety measures in Sochi are remnants from the Cold War. What if, instead of Russia, the Olympics were being held in France or Spain and suddenly there was an uprising in the Basque region? Would we call in to question French President François Hollande’s ability to keep our athletes and citizens safe? Or is it just easier to question the motives of Russian President Vladimir Putin because he has been seen as the enemy other times in U.S. history?

Holding Russia to a higher standard is unfair. No American can forget that our country has not prevented every terrorist attack. The Boston Marathon, 9/11, and, yes, the 1996 Atlanta Olympics are just a few examples of when terrorism has struck on our own turf. On the other hand, the U.S. hosted the 2002 Winter Games in Salt Lake City a mere five months after the 9/11 attacks. There were probably plenty of countries that were wary about sending their athletes and citizens to our seemingly “unsafe” nation. The 2002 Games were without incident and provided some much needed peace and unity.

Thankfully, the U.S. government is responding to the terrorist threat more responsibly than the media is. Instead of just finger-pointing, the U.S. is working with Russia to share our knowledge and expertise in counter-terrorism. This type of global dialogue is encouraging and, to me, what the Olympics are really about.

The beauty of the Olympics is that it doesn’t matter how many people use it as their political platform for acts of terrorism. It will remain a symbol of global unity. The Olympic spirit and ideals are not tangible things that are able to be destroyed. Long after we all have shuffled off this mortal coil, the Olympics will continue so that our grandchildren’s children can cheer on their favorite sports (I’m looking at you, curling) and chant the always inspiring “USA! USA!”