Living It Up!

My New Year’s resolutions are as follows:

1) I will STOP turning the water on full blast every single time I use the sink, and
2) I will master the technique required for liquid eyeliner to actually, once applied, look nice on me. That little bottle has helped clutter my cosmetic bag, mostly unused aside from a few disastrous first attempts, for at least two years. I know it can be done. I have seen the stuff look nice on other people.

I really cannot think of much else.

In early January every year, like most people I reflect on how I would like my life to be different. For about the past five cycles, with steadily decreasing intensity, the first and last and most resonating thought that emerged from the self reflection was, “I want to have more fun.” For me, “more fun” has not meant roller coaster rides or clubbing or sky diving. It has meant reading more books, spending more time outside, taking more walks, more fully letting go of sadnesses I cannot control, actually brewing the herbal tea bags that are waiting in the cupboard, etcetera - enjoying slower moments more often and with a greater sense of joy. Yet this January I finally do not feel those simplicities are missing from my life. So those years' worth of resolve must have paid off; I have managed to create a more joyful life. I believe the appropriate term for this sense of accomplishment is, “Woo-hoo!”

I know New Year’s resolutions are typically about bettering oneself, and of course I realize I have room for self improvement. But self improvement efforts are the stuff of my everyday life. Adjusting eating habits, looking into potential degree programs, seeking community service opportunities, tweaking the finances to make the budget work, and various tasks toward becoming more organized are prosaic items on any given week's to-do list. And despite the relentless efforts of every magazine cover in the checkout aisle, I prefer not to spend start-of-a-new-year contemplations deciding precisely how not good enough I am (i.e. “must lose thirty-two pounds”) or trying to determine how, this year, I will finally measure up to my own, or others’, or society’s expectations of me (i.e. “will never eat sugar again, and finally commence that Ice Cube and Lemon Wedge Diet”). As I recall, that is what I did every year until about five years ago. Now, each new year I spend time reflecting on whether my life’s physical and spiritual and human setting is nurturing and authentic, how well I have been enjoying that setting, and what - if anything - I would need to change about my life to minimize regrets if this were my last year.

Of course, conserving a little water and vamping up my eye makeup from time to time are hardly answers to these existential reflections. But because they are the only two things I managed to muster out of my annual pondering, I know I am content. Life will inevitably continue to change, in ways I can control and in ways I cannot. So I am not going to let this remarkable time and place pass without having been truly appreciated, or waste the *glory of it focusing on how I don’t quite measure up… or down.

- Sarah


*GLORY 
glo•ry noun \ˈglȯr-ē\ 
Definition:
2
a : something that secures praise or renown b : a distinguished quality or asset
3
a (1) : great beauty and splendor : magnificence (2) : something marked by beauty or resplendence b : the splendor and beatific happiness of heaven; broadly : eternity
4
a : a state of great gratification or exaltation b : a height of prosperity or achievement
5
: a ring or spot of light: as a : aureole b : a halo appearing around the shadow of an object 

(http://www.merriam-webster.com)

Feminism and Motherhood

PARENTAL WARNING: NOT APPROPRIATE FOR CHILDREN

My husband may be even more of a feminist than I have turned out to be. In my defense, I am concerned and offended that our society is drenched in overly sexualized images of girls and women. I oppose the seemingly dominant idea, the lie, that youth and rail-thinness are essentials for female beauty and sexuality. I am bewildered that women “earned” the right to vote only 90 years ago; concerned that only 75 out of 535 members of the U.S. Congress are female (only three of whom are Senators), and a mere three of the nine Supreme Court Justices are female; incredulous that recent statistics show that in most modern two-income heterosexual households, the female still does approximately 70% of cooking and housecleaning and child-rearing (www.contemporaryfamilies.org); and annoyed that every marketing image for household products portrays mothers and women, almost never men. If you want to see me at my most indignant, find me a homophobic man (it shouldn’t be too difficult) who will tell you that gayness between two men (or two women they don’t find attractive) is “sick and wrong,” but that watching two “hot” women being sexual together is a major turn on. Furthermore, I am always grouchily amused that not one of the futuristic, liberated women in the otherwise progressive original Star Trek are portrayed without a very mini skirt. (I am open to correction here by actual Trekkies, but I did watch every episode recently and failed to ever spot a female in a getup that was not objectifying.) Predictably, then, I am also opinionated about probably a thousand other pervasive, subtle or not so subtle images, undercurrents and contradictions that undermine female equality in our supposedly egalitarian society.

Uhura is Awesome! The Miniskirt is Offensive.

So I am certainly a feminist. Women’s issues - their status, rights and opportunities - are also of great personal importance to me. While my parents possess many strengths, I still cringe in frustration upon remembering when, as a teenager, my well-meaning mother told me the reason that my brothers were required to have extra jobs in high school and I wasn’t was because they “needed to learn to be men,” whereas I would “never have to support [myself].” Another cringe-inducing conversation occurred around the same time: My mom was (understandably) exasperated during a phase in which my perfectionist anxiety left me wanting braces to fix a slight misalignment in a few front teeth. She snapped, “You sure do have expensive taste, so I hope you marry someone rich someday.” I was (also understandably) appalled and shot back, “I’ll make my own money!” Likewise, I am dismayed that my father wondered at my determination to attend college because “didn’t I want to get married and have children?”

However, I am also a full-time parent now who stopped taking classes towards my career change when I became pregnant and, despite having a degree, am not planning on earning a full-time income again until my daughter or her youngest sibling is in school. My husband, Randy, who initially favored the idea of both of us continuing to work full-time for an income after we had our baby, has now embraced my choice to raise her full-time. I think now that she actually exists here with us, instead of only as a hypothetical conversation, it sets his protective instinct at ease to know that our baby is safe and sound with me all day and receiving lots of one-on-one attention, affection and enrichment experiences. I know it does mine.

But Randy cautions that the extra tasks I have taken on as a mother, including using cloth diapers and making baby food and planning to breastfeed for two years, are the very sorts of domestic expectations and obligations of women that feminists have worked so hard to shed. I counter that feminists worked so that women would have a CHOICE about such things. As a feminist, I was not determined to have children; rejected the idea that I shouldn’t pursue my academics and career and other personal development because of what my family composition might be someday; currently make sure that I maintain non-maternal aspects of my identity; and have plans for graduate school and a future career. But I also reject the idea that domestic tasks are somehow inherently demeaning or are inferior to income-based work. I happily choose to do my best work here and now to be economical and environmentally friendly and give my sweet baby the healthiest start possible in a setting that works best for our family. Also, my choice to parent full-time is not just about the baby. It is also about doing what is best for me. I know myself well enough to know that my sense of well-being would be compromised if Randy and I were trying to raise our child in the midst of juggling two full-time professions. Some people thrive off of that sort of lifestyle. I would not. It would seem chaotic and rushed to me, and I like to keep things simple. As far as I am concerned, what sort of social “progress” is it if women are expected to have income-earning careers simultaneously with the intense demands of early childhood parenting?

This is What a Feminist Looks Like

I am sure there are feminists of similar goodwill who come to different conclusions about these same topics. I support that, and I will raise my daughter to come to her own conclusions about these issues someday. But I am pleased with my choices. I thank the early feminists who worked diligently so I can have choices. Moreover, I am proud and relieved that I am not the only one in this house who values their efforts. I thank Randy for working so diligently to support my choices, too.

- Sarah

Merry Holidays!

Should Christmas Be a Conflict?

I inadvertently caught tidbits of this conversation from news/talk formats in the weeks leading up to Christmas. (I think I heard the phrase “War on Christmas.”) But I almost always refuse to get drawn in to dramatic talking points. I think such conflicts tend to be manufactured, or at least overly fueled, by for-profit outlets to try and get people upset and thereby improve ratings. Surely most people’s lives are not genuinely marked by such impassioned “us vs. them” mentalities. But when a close friend addressed this Christmas issue with me a few days ago, the topic suddenly became personally relevant. It left me pensive, and I have had a hard time dropping it in talks with Randy. So as he usually does when he has grown weary of hearing every single angle of my thoughts on a topic the fourth or fifth time around, he finally said, “Will you just blog about it already?”

Premise: My friend is a Christian and I am not, but I do truly respect and support her and others' religious beliefs. I think a diversity of beliefs and cultures is a positive, healthy aspect of our society. She and I often discuss our beliefs about various things - many of which we share, most of which we do not - and I think we agree to disagree because we have been friends for over fifteen years and value our history over the details of our current philosophies.

Content: So the other day this friend mentioned for the third time over the holiday season that I celebrate Christmas although I am not a Christian. The first time she mentioned it was just, “Not sure if you celebrate it, but if you do Merry Christmas!” I assured her I do and wished her the same. The next was, “Oh, you do? Because I thought you were agnostic.” At that point I wondered if I was catching an underlying level of disapproval, but decided she just truly wanted to better understand how, as an agnostic, I approach the holidays. But she addressed it more straightforwardly when we had time for a longer conversation, confirming my initial instinct that she was actually a little put off that I indeed observe Christmas, but in a way other than as a celebration of Christ’s birth.

Fair enough. Her point was approached in a fairly friendly way and I always welcome open dialogue. But I was left confused. Knowing that some Christians are concerned with the possibility that the word "Christmas" is losing popularity around the holidays in favor of phrases like "Happy Holidays," I have deliberately wished "Merry Christmas" to people I know celebrate it (and opt for something more vague but equally cheerful if they do not or if I am not sure). But the gist and almost verbatim of her stance was that “those of us who are Christians feel a need to defend Christmas and keep it for ourselves because it is about Jesus’ birth, so we shouldn’t have to share our holiday with people who don’t think so.” Although a bit taken aback, I explained that, even as a secular person, I celebrate what seems to have become the broader American tradition of Christmas. Also, raised celebrating it, the holiday was and is a special and important way for my family to take time each year to celebrate our good fortune. We did receive gifts when I was young. However, my parents minimized the commercial importance of the holiday by placing greater emphasis on traditions like decorating the tree together, making hot chocolate, listening to Christmas music, driving around to look at lights, and the exchange of mostly small, thoughtful gifts. Carrying on these traditions with my new family is very meaningful to me. And, especially after moving from my upbringing in the warm, sunny desert to the Midwest, I absolutely love winter and cannot get enough of celebrations centered around what I think of as the most magical season and time of year. I then explained that, although I absolutely respect the importance the December holiday has taken on “recently” for Christians (during approximately the past fifteen hundred years), that the winter solstice celebrations that predate Christianity are valid and worthy of carrying on as well. (There seems to be some sort of inherent, cross-cultural human tendency to partake in special observances and rituals in the wintertime… and I’m all in!) Finally, I said I think each family should celebrate life according to their own beliefs, and that the nature of others’ traditions needn’t be of concern or threat.

Thinking about the conversation afterward, I realized that being confronted about my holiday observances was a little uncomfortable. If I am to be completely honest, I have to admit that coming from anyone else my friend’s stance probably would have hurt my feelings or have been discouraging. Because I go around in life with a sort of lovely, warm-fuzzy sense of “I’m okay, and you’re okay; your beliefs are different than mine but I respect your differences and find your ideas interesting,” etc. But I have an emerging realization that mine may be a more naive perspective than I had hoped. Many people probably are not going to reciprocate with an acceptance of my ideas. And I am left frustrated that I cannot seem to win for trying: If I were to wish Happy Holidays to those I know to be Christian then, according to what I have been hearing a lot of lately, many would be offended that I had taken the “Christ” out of “Christmas.” But when I wish a Merry Christmas instead, not feeling threatened or offended by the Christ-related aspect of the holiday’s context, and truly mean to wish the best to others in the most sincere and cheerful manner, I am essentially informed that I should be excluded from celebrating Christmas because, really, I am not in the right group. So, hypothetically, how could I approach things differently? I could 1) deprive myself taking part in what is an incredibly meaningful part of my life OR 2) convert to Christianity against my personal convictions to the contrary. Because that seems to be the crux of the issue. If failing to acknowledge Christmas would be offensive, and yet celebrating Christmas is offensive, then isn’t the issue at hand simply the fact that some people are not Christian?

I also find it ironic that anyone concerned that their way of life may be in danger of infringement might seek as the answer an infringement upon others’ ideas. Surely the solution to a concern about infringement is advocacy for greatest possible freedom for and acceptance of all viewpoints, in order to encourage an environment where tolerance for any ideas (that are not bigoted or violent) can flourish. But Christians are nowhere near being an infringed upon minority. As of 2008, 76% of American adults self identified as having a Christian affiliation (http://www.religioustolerance.org). But some seem to fear becoming any less than the privileged majority.

I do not want to oppress anyone’s beliefs, and I certainly do not want or expect to ever be amongst a philosophical majority. My expectations in this regard are really quite modest. I just want my ideas to be able to coexist amicably alongside the mainstreams’ and other minorities’ values. But at times, even this tiny existence in the midst of the larger, dominant culture seems to be perceived as a threat. Whereas I think discomfort or concern about ideas like mine is just unnecessary... and possibly unfair.

- Sarah

http://www.religioustolerance.org
http://www.census.gov/compendia/statab/cats/population/religion.html