soapbox

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Before I dive into this, let me preface this post by saying there is no way I can fully articulate everything I feel about this issue, but I’m going to at least try to speak to some of what’s been stewing in my head the past few days.

Do you guys remember when Dooce came back from Bangladesh and all hell broke loose on Twitter when people questioned her motives and raised the issue of poverty tourism? This latest brouhaha over the Kony 2012 campaign reminds me of her Bangladesh debacle. When that first went down, I wanted to blog about what was happening, but I didn’t feel like I could speak to one side of the issue or the other without being called either a troll (what Dooce’s detractors were being called) or a groupie (what Dooce’s detractors were calling her supporters). Now that plenty of time has elapsed and we have a new philanthropic movement to contend with, I feel like I can finally dip my toes into these tempestuous waters and hopefully articulate some of what is so frustrating and unsettling and hopeful about these situations.

To review, this is what we’ve seen repeated several times over now:

Steps to a Social Change Nightmare

1) Find a social good campaign, preferably in an underprivileged country with lots of brown people.
2) Get it some media attention. Stir, and watch what happens.
3) Wait until lots of people say, “Yay! Let’s all go save Darfur/Uganda/Bangaldesh/_______”
4) Wait until someone offers critique or criticism of the movement
5) Watch the original supporters get angry.
6) Let it all devolve into people being spectacularly rude to each other and calling each other nasty names on the internet.

Um…that was fun?

When all of this starts to unravel, you have to sift through all of the angry posts to get down to essentials. On the one hand, supporters say that doing something is better than doing nothing, and they say that raising awareness is the beginning of amazing change! On the other hand, detractors will point out that awareness doesn’t actually fix anything, and they point out how uninformed and misguided aid can do more harm than good. And I think that for most of us, this is incredibly frustrating. I’m no expert on NGOs or charity organizations or how and why certain forms of aid are better than others, and I’m going to guess most of you aren’t either. I also give a shit about what’s happening outside of my own little bubble, I want other people to give a shit about what’s happening outside of their little bubbles, I want all of us to be able to contribute to the greater good in whatever ways we can, and I’m guessing you feel the same way, too. But I’m also a critical thinker and sometimes a bit of a cynic, and I refuse to let rhetorically clever media pitches persuade me without doing my due diligence and checking my sources. These organizations and their messages need to pass muster with me before I will throw my voice, my time, or my money behind them. And the crappy part of this is that by putting a critical lens on these organizations, I will typically land on the detractor side of the fence no matter how meaningful the cause is to me, because they are all problematic in some way. I find independently un-audited financials problematic; I find high administrative salaries problematic; I find low percentages of funds directed towards the cause problematic; I find white savior complex problematic; and I find skewing the facts to tug at my heartstrings deeply, deeply problematic.

After going through the mental gymnastics required to get to this point I’m stuck in a catch-22. If I critique, I’m accused of inaction, which is a crime in and of itself, according to some. If I support, I’m accused of doing harm by funding imperfect organizations, which is also crime according to others. So what am I, what are any of us, supposed to do? There’s no point engaging with either side online, because the vast majority of the online conversations quickly turn into “You’re stupid!” “No, YOU’RE stupid!” “No, YOU’RE stupid and so is your mom and so is your dog!” fights. Pointless and a waste of time. Even when people bring relevant evidence, questions, and concerns to either side of the conversation, it isn’t long before civility is abandoned and punches are thrown in a virtual bar brawl.

And you know what else pisses me off? How very personally both sides take criticism. None of us knows anybody else’s motivations for certain, but would it kill us to assume that when it comes to social change and doing good in the world, your average citizen just wants to do the best that they can? Yes, there are always douchebags who will name-call and make it personal, but can we assume that when anyone else critiques a particular viewpoint, it’s not to personally insult those who espouse that viewpoint, but instead to bring critical thought and rhetorical analysis to make sense of a complex issue? Because while we’re busy insulting each other, unspeakable things are happening all around the world that we don’t stand a chance of stopping if we’re busy hurling insults at each other.

But now that I’m all riled up, here’s what I think we’re missing: there are really two different parts to this conversation going on at the same time, and I think we’re muddling them all together. The first part is the conversation about the individual organization. Someone, somewhere feels strongly enough about something that they bring it to the attention of other people. And there emerges from this a passion for an organization and its message and a conversation about convincing other people to invest their time and attention to this cause. Those conversations are (mostly) good, and important, and necessary.

There is, however, a second, meta conversation about HOW BEST to bring about social change, and what the best strategies are for dealing with the innumerable worthy causes to which we can devote our attention, which has nothing to do with any individual organization. What’s the best strategy for stabilizing the political situation in Central Africa that allows for child soldiers? What’s the best strategy to reduce maternal mortality worldwide? What’s the best strategy for reducing death rates from breast cancer? No one organization can deal with any of these issues by themselves. When this conversation about how best to do the work collectively and on a higher level addresses the individual organizations who are trying to do the work, you get really spectacular fireworks. Because this second conversation pisses people off, and it can kill the enthusiasm that stems from the first conversation because oh, hell, if these guys aren’t doing it right, then who is? And if no one is doing it right, shouldn’t we still be doing something?!

The Kony 2012 campaign has had at least one upshot in that people are using this as a lesson in researching non-profits, which I think is forcing people to engage with the meta part of the conversation, as uncomfortable as that might be. People are being challenged to evaluate whether their methods are sound based on experts in the field. People are being forced to question whether their finances sound and whether or not they espouse our values. And I hope that people will eventually realize that just because we critique an organization’s strategies, doesn’t mean we think their cause isn’t worth fighting for, it just means we think maybe there’s a better way to fight. And just because we support an organization, doesn’t mean we believe that they’re flawless. It just means that we’ve found peace with our decision to support them, hopefully through thoughtful research and critical analysis.

As frustrating as it is to watch all of this unfold across the internet, it boils down to this for me: we need to be talking about this, all of it. We need to be kind to one another and educate each other as much as we can. We need to make sure our kids are savvy in world affairs. We need the passion and enthusiasm for change, but we ALL need to research the hell out of our causes. We need to be careful of group-think, and we need to be able to accept the consequences of our choices if it turns out down the road that the group we supported yesterday turns out to not align with our values after all.

So now that I’m done on my soapbox, what do you think? What have these campaigns and conversations changed in your thinking and researching? How is your approach to social change and charitable work changing?

© 2012, OneShoeOff. All rights reserved.

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Dinosaurs

When I was pregnant with wee C, we made a conscious decision not to find out her sex. I wanted so very badly to keep from being inundated with baby stuff designed to make a child look like a frosted cupcake or a future linebacker. I wanted to start her on neutral ground as much as I possibly could, and I struggled mightily with well-meaning friends and family who wanted very much to assign her with socially constructed, but ultimately meaningless gender identity before she was even born (although they clearly only saw it as a matter of wanting to by pink! or blue! or ruffles! or cars!)

Since her birth, we have continued to struggle with allowing her to make decisions about what she likes without pressuring her or otherwise influencing her. And can I tell you something? It’s effing hard. Everything in our culture tells her that she can only be a certain way. That, in fact, it’s somehow wrong or scary to be any different. We haven’t done this perfectly, far from it. But we have raised a little girl who is now as interested in dinosaurs and outer space as she has in princesses and tea parties. And I secretly do a little victory dance when she expresses and investigates ALL of these interests.

Fast forward to today. I volunteer at her school by serving lunch one day a week, and today was my appointed day. The kids sit at assigned tables together and parent volunteers and teachers sit at the head of each table to help them with their lunch. Today, our table was discussing birthday parties, and two girls were describing what they had planned for their upcoming birthdays. At this point, sweet C pipes up to tell them she’s having a dinosaur-themed birthday party (which she is). There’s a silence, then one of the girls says “But dinosaurs are for boys.” As soon as she said the word “but,” I realized what she was going to follow that up with, and my heart shattered into a million pieces. I immediately jumped in and flat-out told her she was wrong, and I explained why. And perhaps that’s harsh, but she IS wrong, and she needed to hear it.

I don’t think sweet C heard her, although I’m not 100% certain, but this girl simply looked at me, perplexed, and the conversation moved on to something else. Even if C heard her, I know I can handle any questions that come up from her about the issue. She’ll think it’s completely silly that anyone would think that. But my heart hurts for the other little girl and all the other little girls out there who don’t know that dinosaurs are fascinating, and being a paleontologist would be infinitely cool and kick-ass. My heart hurts for the little girls who think that their lot in life is to look pretty and love pink (not that there’s anything wrong with the self-confidence that comes from feeling good about how you look or loving the color pink, but you know what I mean). My heart hurts because even in 2011, I have to fight and fight the predominant culture to teach my daughter that she can wear a princess costume and be really clever (because being completely vapid is also apparently cute for girls?!) and witty and love dinosaurs all at the same time and THERE ISN’T A THING WRONG WITH HER FOR DOING SO, DAMMIT! My heart hurts because the predominant culture still doesn’t like strong, smart, interesting women, which means that I am still fighting the battle for myself.

But you know what? As much as it kills me to have to have these conversations with that little girl and presumably many more after her, my daughter will learn a much more valuable lesson watching me fight for myself, her, and every other girl out there big and small, than she will from stupid, sexist advertising. And with any luck, my little girl will some day grow up to join me on the soapbox. So help me, she will understand her true value in society, and she will work to make sure future generations of girls after her will have the same opportunity for self-discovery and the same strong sense of self-awareness and downright awesomeness that I hope to impart to her.

So help me.

© 2011, OneShoeOff. All rights reserved.

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I’ll admit it. I was naive. I genuinely thought we were doing soooo well. 3 1/2 years into this parenting a girl gig, and my kid had barely heard of the Disney princesses, let alone knew what their names were. And then, school started. I am not exaggerating in the tiniest bit when I say that my child may have been the only one in her entire class who hadn’t been indoctrinated into the club. But C is no dummy; she picked it up in a split second, and now, she notices them everywhere. Why? Because THEY. ARE. EVERYWHERE. I had always known they were there, but she hadn’t really noticed or cared until recently, and now, Mama is peeved. Oh, I should mention we’re going to our second school-friend birthday party of the year this weekend, and not coincidentally it’s our second PRINCESS party to attend. And this one requires dressing up “as your favorite princess!” C wants to be Belle. She hasn’t the first idea who Belle is (aside from knowing she’s the one in the yellow dress), or what her story is. She just wants to be Belle.

Firstly, I hate, no, that’s not strong enough. I LOATHE marketing directed at children. The fact that they want to make a consumer out of my kid makes me spitting mad. Second, I DESPISE how Disney represents women. “Oh, woe is me. I have poor body image and I wish I had legs instead of a fin. Oh, I KNOW, I’ll literally give up my voice in order to be with a handsome man who will take care of me and teach me the ways of the world so I don’t comb my hair with a fork.” Gag me. This is not a role model for my daughter. These doll-women flit about in sparkly dresses with their perfect Barbie-like bodies and their clone princes and do….nothing. I’m all for flitting about in sparkly dresses, believe you me. I like to get gussied up as much as the next person. But the princesses that get trotted about all the time with the incessant cheap merchandising (Belle, Ariel, Snow White, Jasmine, Cinderella) don’t DO anything. (Although Belle gets cut some slack because she love books and resists the advances of the evil Gaston because he’s evil and she’d rather be reading. You go girlfriend. Your story should have ended there.) What I want to know is where’s the merchandising for Mulan? Hmm? Oh, how could I forget? She could hand you your ass on a silver platter, so therefore she’s waaay too strong, and certainly not delicate or sparkly enough. Sorry, Mulan, it’s not you; it’s us. Kick-ass women just don’t sell.

And I get why girls love the princesses, I do. They ARE so sparkly and fun, and it’s fun to twirl about the ball. But while my daughter is being battered with these pervasive messages from Disney, I’m going to do my best to work in parallel and tell her stories about what it can really mean to be a princess. I showed her pictures of Princess Diana and Queen Elizabeth II (aka what REAL princesses look like, not those big-busted floozies). I explained how Princess Diana used her power to help people. I told her that Mulan might have been a real person, and that she was an amazing heroine who was strong and brave and SAVED PEOPLE for crying out loud. I tell her that real princesses need to understand politics, and that they have a great number of responsibilities. I tell her that princesses sometimes have princes, but sometimes they don’t because princes can be very dull. Disney is loud, but I don’t need to shout my message to be heard by my daughter. Disney markets to the masses, but I can talk directly to my kid in words that mean something to her.

I think that some might read this post and misunderstand me. I should be clear that I don’t judge anyone for allowing or disallowing the Disney princesses in their homes. Moms that I know, love, and respect fall on both sides of the spectrum, and their children are wonderful people because of their amazing mothers (and fathers), not because of the Disney princesses’ presence or absence in their lives. This issue hits home for me because I don’t want mass media helping to define my daughter’s notion of femininity. She’s going to have YEARS of being bombarded with images that tell her what she SHOULD be, and I don’t want it to start now.

So will she go the party this weekend dressed as Belle? Yes, because denying her that makes the forbidden fruit that much sweeter (and as my loyal Arch Support repeatedly points out, Belle loves books!). The dress isn’t the enemy right now; it’s the story that goes with the dress that’s problematic. Will we be talking about princesses a bunch this week? Yep, sure will. Will these conversations continue for years and years with princesses replaced by some other unrealistic representation of womanhood? I’m afraid so. And will she be completely stunted by her mother’s inability to love the Disney princesses? Maybe. I’ll keep you posted on that one.

© 2010, OneShoeOff. All rights reserved.

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Rant ahead, consider yourself warned.

This afternoon, I took my Sweet Girl to one of our local malls to play in the soft play area with some friends. Some of you may know that I LOATHE those places with every fiber of my being, because they’re crowded, probably covered in a fine film of toddler fecal matter, and they are a magnet for irresponsible parents who need a place to let their children run amok with minimal supervision. But we go despite my reservations because it makes her SO happy, and it helps her burn energy.

Near the end of today’s play session, my girl was at the top of a soft play slide, roughly 4 feet tall. I was sitting on the bench right behind her watching her play. Several boys climbed UP the slide (which in our household is verboten and will remain so until she is able to understand that you only do that when other children aren’t trying to go DOWN the slide). There isn’t much room at the top of the slide. It suddenly got very crowded with the boys clambering and pushing each other and everyone around them at the top of the slide. Do you see where this is going? One of them pushed Charlotte. My stomach dropped (and is dropping right now as I type this), and I jumped up as fast as I could to try to catch her. I couldn’t get there in time, and she went backwards off the top of the slide and fell on her head/neck/shoulders on the ground (thankfully, mercifully a relatively cushioned surface). I can hardly contain the tears and I’m still shaking as I think about how gut-wrenching that was, how horrible to watch this happen to your child and know the possibility for serious injury while being completely incapable of doing anything to stop this. To those parents who have bravely watched their children go through much, much worse and still manage to get out of bed every day, I cannot offer enough of my admiration for your courage. Naturally, I scooped up her sobbing, shaking, sore little body, and clutched her to me alternately whispering soothing words and asking her if she was okay. She kept telling me no. Cue stomach dropping a little further.

In the meantime, the mother of the boy who pushed her (Mom A) had been sitting just a few feet from me. This was one of the boys who had been running around this tiny play area the whole time we were there. This was one of the boys whose parents you couldn’t identify because no one was actively paying attention to him or trying to get him to stop acting like a damn fool. This was one of the boys who was veeeery close to being altogether too big for the play area. Immediately after the fall, this mother started yelling at the boy. She told him he should be watching out for the littler kids. She hollered at him to come sit by her. The mother of one of the other boys had been sitting next to her chit-chatting and she grabbed her son as well (Mom B). As I was anxiously soothing my girl, Mom A asked me if she was okay. All I could say in that moment where I felt only anxiety for my daughter’s well-being and anger at the nature of this accident was, “I sure hope so.” Mom A walked away and sat down with her son.

Here’s where it gets really good. Mom A didn’t apologize. Mom A didn’t insist that her son apologize. Mom A didn’t find out for sure if Sweet Girl was okay. Mom A didn’t speak another word to me in the 10 minutes that she sat there after the accident. Mom B, whose son was also part of the melee, didn’t say a word to her son. Mom B didn’t say a word to me. In fact Mom B wouldn’t even look me in the eye.

I. Am. Furious. What I wanted to explain to this mother, and what I didn’t have time to tell her is that while she was busy yelling at her son and blaming him for what happened, SHE is ultimately responsible for monitoring his behavior and REMOVING HIM from a situation that gets out of hand BEFORE someone gets hurt. Don’t yell at your kid because you were too busy talking to your friend to actually PARENT him. He’s a kid. Kids get rowdy. Kids don’t have a great sense of knowing when to calm down. It’s especially hard for them if their parents don’t set and uphold reasonable boundaries. BUT IT’S PARENTS THAT ARE SUPPOSED TO KEEP THE KIDS FROM KILLING EACH OTHER. Also, what the hell kind of parent doesn’t teach their kid to apologize for hurting someone else?! Maybe she was terrified of what my response would be; maybe she felt guilty. Hard to know since she didn’t bother to say. Either way, that doesn’t mean that she shouldn’t have owned up to her mistakes and effing apologized and asked her son to apologize as well. Accidents happen, we ALL know that accidents happen, but my kid could have broken her freakin’ neck falling 4 feet, and she didn’t have the courage? decency? chutzpah? to say she was sorry? WTF, people? What happened to people having an ounce of human decency and taking, oh what’s it called again….oh yeah RESPONSIBILITY for their actions?!

Yeah, I’m gonna need a stiff drink to calm my nerves AND get me off my soapbox.

© 2009, OneShoeOff. All rights reserved.

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