“So perhaps it just speaks to the heartiness of women, that put on
your boots and put your hat on and get out, slog through the mess that
is out there.” – Senator Lisa Murkowski (R – AK)
On January 26, 2016, two days after a large blizzard in DC, something was different in the US Senate. No men showed up. For the first time ever, the entire present Senate staff was female. (video)
I’m not putting this under a cut, though it’s a long post, because if you read my blog you’ll want to read this.
Yesterday, after I had taken two friends of mine to the gym to train together–they beginners, myself with several years of experience lifting–one of the gym trainers approached me.
“It looked like you were training them,” he said.
“They weren’t paying me or anything,” I said.
There followed some harrumphing on his part about the risk of injury and the comment, “It looked like you didn’t get much of your own workout in. You should find someone of your own level to be your workout buddy. Your friends can do group classes.”
This conversation took place against an interesting background: a man training with his clearly inexperienced girlfriend.
At the time I didn’t argue–the gym is my second home and I don’t want to upset the equilibrium there. But I was angry.
When I grew up, I definitely had the idea that women did not lift weights. My father harrumphed at women who ‘looked like bodybuilders.’ My mother was active–in fact groundbreakingly so–and did judo as a teenager in the ‘70s and ran marathons before they were in vogue. But she didn’t lift weights. She didn’t train for strength. I recall only that she would do calf raises off the lowest step of the stairs in our house in order to grow her calves and ‘balance out her big butt.’
That was what women did, to me: delicately inflected, squeamishly undertaken exercises for aesthetic effect, as purposefully disinterested and languid in their execution as Kate Moss’s heroin chic. Women did not try too hard. Women did not strain.
My young self rebelled against the idea of being seen as beautiful–or desirable, which is not the same thing, though the two are so often elided–just because my body had developed breasts and hips. I wanted a kind of beauty that was hard-fought and deserved.
So I became anorexic.
It fit the aesthetic of the time–Kate Moss and all that–but of course fell prey to the essential hypocrisy of that image. Be strong–by wasting your muscles. “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” Nothing?
Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels. Well. For one thing, let’s examine the dichotomy set up in that famous little feel-bad soundbite (a dainty one, barely a mouthful–such a small bite one swallows it without tasting its arsenic bitterness).
Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels. Life’s great pleasure’s are at war. Taste something good, or feel good. One or the other. Never both.
I believed this to be true for most of my life.
It’s not.
You don’t have to choose between food and feeling good, feeling light in your body. Feeling–what is ‘thin’?
Thin is not a feeling.
Or if it is, it is not a pleasurable one. Scraped thin, like–like what, like Bilbo Baggins after his contact with the One Ring, who described himself as ‘like butter scraped over too much bread’?
‘Not too full, having eaten an amount of food that is energizing but not ennervating’? Sure. Good feeling.
I like feeling light, I like feeling like I carry my body with ease. I like being able to leap up stairs getting out of the subway and do pullups on scaffoldings in the street.
I like feeling desired and beautiful. I like it when people admire my body.
None of those feelings is ‘thin.’
Feelings–
What about the rusty tang of iron hefted overhead? The intoxicating ichor of effort on a sports field or in the gym?
What about feeling strong?
The race to lose weight is a race to the bottom. I felt ‘fat’ as an anorexic not because it was such a devious mental illnes, tut-tut those hysterical delusional women. No! I felt ‘fat’–I felt ‘heavy’–because my muscles weren’t strong nough to support me. My starved brain added to my sense of low energy and torpor. And having come to believe that feeling effervescently light and energetic was part and parcel of being ‘thin’, of course I still felt like I was ‘fat.’ I had no muscle. And my skinniness was never effortless enough to satisfy.
There’s nothing wrong with trying hard. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be proud of your body because you built it. That part of my motivation wasn’t bad.
That’s why I lift weights. That’s why I want more people of all genders to lift weights.
That’s why I get so very, very angry when men gatekeep fitness. I get so angry that fitness is still substantially gendered: women do cardio. Men do weights. Men bring their inexperienced buddies in to train with them and the trainers don’t care: there’s a long tradition of male-to-male gym initiation, and most men never get trainers. But bring women (or nonbinary people) in to the gym and suddenly you threaten the gym trainer’s core market. Because God forbid women educate themselves about lifting.
By the way, I get it, I do: women don’t need to be shamed any more about what they ‘should’ do. And men are not immune to body image issues, some of them driven to unhealthy extremes to gain muscle AND to lose body fat, just like women. And ‘strong is the new skinny’ is bullshit if what you really mean by ‘strong’ is ‘absurdly lean.’ But even government health guidelines indicate that all people should do BOTH strength training AND cardio. Even differently abled people can and do engage in a wide variety of exercise. (Several people at my pool are paraplegic, for instance). I’m not saying here is One Thing you need to do–you can get stronger without a barbell and without a gym. I am saying educate yourselves. Get stronger. Push yourselves to do more. Get strong enough that you don’t need to ask men to help you move furniture. That’s a good feeling.
Here are some resources on lifting. Go forth and conquer.
T-nation (despite the testosterone-inflected name-and of course women have testosterone too– GREAT guide to basic strength training)
And as always ask me fitness questions anytime, with the caveat that I am not a professional and clear it with your doctor before beginning a fitness routine.
During World War II, 600,000 African-American women entered the wartime
workforce. Previously, black women’s work in the United States was
largely limited to domestic service and agricultural work, and wartime
industries meant new and better-paying opportunities – if they made it
through the hiring process, that is. White women were the targets of the
U.S. government’s propaganda efforts, as embodied in the lasting and
lauded image of Rosie the Riveter.Though largely ignored in America’s
popular history of World War II, black women’s important contributions
in World War II factories, which weren’t always so welcoming, are
stunningly captured in these comparably rare snapshots of black Rosie
the Riveters.
Reblogging because I’ve never seen these before, and I bet a lot of people haven’t.
Omg this anecdote about Nancy Pelosi in a story about how awful Paul Ryan is [ETA: Oops, forgot to include the source. Here it is.] is the most amazing thing:
Nancy Pelosi is famously hard to interview, and was never a favorite among reporters the way Ryan is. But she was a far more effective speaker.
The example that always comes to mind to me is one that Tom Perriello, a Democrat who served one term in the House from a very red district in Virginia from 2009 to 2011 (and is now running for governor) told Ezra Klein back in December 2010. Perriello was weighing whether to vote for the DREAM Act, which would legalize the status of undocumented immigrants who arrived as children. “There was the whole question of whether the Senate would support it,” he told Klein. “And I didn’t want to do this if it was just going to die in the Senate.”
Then the lobbying started. “I got a call from [Education Secretary] Arne Duncan, and he began telling me about the individual anecdotes of guys that he worked with in Chicago who needed this legislation,” Perriello recalled. “There were strong Latino organizing networks that began moving, and someone I went to second grade with called and was like, ‘Tom, you might not vote for the DREAM Act? I know we haven’t talked in 32 years, but…’ A few of my friends from college started to call. Several people contacted colleagues I’d had in past jobs, so now they’re writing me. ‘Dude, I haven’t been following this, but I’ve heard from six people today that I have to call you about the DREAM Act. …’”
This is how Pelosi whipped votes. She got the administration involved, she got outside groups involved, she got random figures from Congress members’ pasts involved. She was really, really good at it. And it all happened quietly, without anyone watching or applauding.
I’ve noticed over the years that people hate Nancy Pelosi. I wondered for a while why people hated Nancy Pelosi. They never gave any concrete reasons, but they had this thread of near-violent rage in their voices whenever they spoke about her. Then I realized that all these people were men. And it clicked.
VIKING LORE HELD THAT BOTH WEAVING AND SORCERY WERE WOMEN’S WORK, DITTO THE ORDERING OF THE HOUSE ACCOUNTS. MANY CULTURES HAVE HISTORICALLY LEFT ACCOUNTANCY TO WOMEN! MANY SOCIETIES HAVE ALSO LEFT FIBERCRAFT TO WOMEN BECAUSE IT IS TEDIOUS AND REPETITIVE BUT ALSO VERY NECESSARY. SEE ALSO: COOKING, CLEANING, BUDGETING, EMOTIONAL LABOR.
ANYWAY FIBERCRAFT, AS I HAVE DISCOVERED VIA LEARNING TO DO A WHOLE LOT OF IT, IS ALMOST ENTIRELY APPLIED MATHEMATICS EXCEPT FOR THE PART THAT’S ENGINEERING (WHICH IS ALSO MATHEMATICS). ONCE YOU LEARN EVEN THE BASICS OF KNITTING, SEWING, AND WEAVING, IT BECOMES ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE TO REALIZE MEN THINK WOMEN ARE BY VIRTUE OF THEIR SEX (these are of course sexist gender-essentialist men who are not cool with trans people) ILL-EQUIPPED TO DO MATH SOMEHOW. HOLY SHIT, HAVE YOU SEEN HEIRLOOM KNITTING PATTERNS? HAVE YOU SEEN THE FORETHOUGHT THAT GOES INTO WORKING A HARNESS LOOM? OH MY GOD.
THIS IS, THEN, WHERE PROGRAMMING (AND SORCERY) COMES IN. A PROGRAM IS “CODED INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE AUTOMATIC PERFORMANCE OF A PARTICULAR TASK”. WEAVING IS OFTEN A BINARY PATTERN: OVER/UNDER. PUNCH CARDS ON ADVANCED LOOMS CAN SET WHETHER THREADS GO OVER OR UNDER, AND SWITCHING THE CARDS AROUND YIELDS DIFFERENT PATTERNS OF CLOTH. A DUDE NAMED JAQUARD DEVELOPED EXTREMELY COMPLEX PUNCH CARDS THAT STARTED TO ENCODE HIGH VOLUMES OF INFORMATION FOR INCREASINGLY AUTOMATED LOOMS. A HUNDRED YEARS LATER WOMEN ARE USED AGAIN FOR THE ‘TEDIOUS BUT NECESSARY’ BUSINESS OF USING BINARY ON/OFF CARDS TO WRITE PROGRAMS FOR EARLY COMPUTERS.
WHERE SORCERY FITS INTO ALL THIS IS HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A WOMAN USE A CARD LOOM REALLY FAST? IT’S THE MOST INTIMIDATING SKILLSET OUTSIDE OF A RODEO. SHE 100% LOOKS LIKE SHE COULD MAKE YOUR BUTT FALL OFF IF YOU CROSSED HER. APPLIED MATHEMATICS / ENGINEERING IS BAFFLING TO WATCH FROM THE OUTSIDE, ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES TO FIBERCRAFT. YOU CAN MANIFEST WITH YOUR MIND AND HANDS THIS HIGHER AND TRUER ARCANE PLANE OF EXISTENCE INTO A NICE SCARF AND KEEP YOUR HUSBAND ALIVE FOR THE WINTER. MAYBE IF HE CROSSES YOU YOU CAN ALSO MAKE HIS BUTT FALL OFF.
I TOTALLY ACKNOWLEDGE THAT MEN DO FIBERCRAFT TOO BUT THIS WAS SPECIFICALLY ABOUT THE INTERSECTIONS BETWEEN WOMEN, MATH, FIBERCRAFT, AND MAGIC, SO THERE YOU GO.
You may have known this already, but the Apollo guidance computer’s core memory was literally woven strands of copper, and it was all done by hand, by a bunch of women. Because who else knows how to weave things?
*SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE* WOMEN’S WORK SENT MEN TO THE FUCKING MOON HOW IS THAT NOT MAGIC AS HELL
Oh oh oh oh this is my subject on Viking reenactment gigs, I’m the group’s Vala and I also fill in for the weavers and spinners because IT’S THE SAME SHIT let me tell you about it 😀 😀 😀
SPINNING with a drop spindle, none of your fancy high-tech spinning wheels here my friend, SPINNING OMG is literally taking undifferentiated fluff and turning it into the most useful and life-essential item in your whole civilisation with little more than a click of your fingers–without thread you have no sails, no clothes, no blankets, it’s literally power of life-or-death shit here, it is magic AS FUCK. That’s without doubt why the Norns were spinners and weavers.
There was laws about not saying people’s names or talking about people when you’re spinning, because you’re basically bringing something into being out of nothing, and with that kind of power you could just as easily bring events into being. So folks probably look the other way when you’re spinning thread for your son’s shirt and you want him to be victorious and honourable, but if you’re spinning away and bitching out about that ho Ingvar (see below) and how she stole your man and deserves the same to happen to her, that’s a crime. You’d be in better legal standing if you just punched her, because enchantment against a person was seen as sneaky and underhanded, with all connotations of forethought and antisocial intention, while punching someone could be an understandable lapse of self-control.
It was also forbidden to spin “against the sun” (ie: counterclockwise) because ok we also know there’s a mechanical aspect to that as well, it’s very useful to have the twist going in the same direction at all times so it doesn’t cancel itself out, but it was believed that an item made from backwards-spun thread could literally kill a person, there’s an account of a Vala spinning a shirt to murder a priest and it’s inferred that it was spun backwards. Because like, the sun is the source of all life, and to go against the sun goes against life, and much as the anti-twist cancels out the twist, it cancels out life. Brutal.
And you couldn’t talk about people when weaving, either, because weaving is an extension of the whole something-from-nothing power, but presumably people did anyway because there’s an actual find of a weaving tablet with a curse carved on it “Sigvor’s Ingvar shall have
my misfortune” so basically every time the card was turned, it would strengthen the curse, and literally spin and weave it into being. HOW FUCKING AWESOME IS THAT. There’s also a find of a weaving sword with a “love poem” carved on it, note the quotemarks because this “poem” goes “Think of me, I think of you; Love me, I love you” THAT AIN’T NO POEM FAM THAT A SPELL. She probably making him (or her) a shirt.
And that’s three times I’ve mentioned shirts, so I should tell you that making a shirt for someone was a Big Deal, in a way it was sort of the period equivalent of the boyfriend sweater, with the sheer amount of labour that goes into making a shirt you have to really give a whole lot of shits about that person. There’s an account of a woman making a shirt for her brother-in-law while her husband was away, and it’s OMG DRAMA BOMB. The Vala I mentioned above really gave a lot of shits about murdering that priest. Hence, the most-likely-a-woman who owned the inscribed weaving sword could very well have been making a shirt for her crush, who may OR MAY NOT have been her husband. You know, she could’ve been like “hope my nice hubby thinks about me while he’s away” or she could’ve been like “damn, brother-in-law too hot” or she could’ve been like “damn, Ingvar too hot” (wlw aren’t attested at all but you gotta assume it happened because humans) but in any event she knew what was up. And making a shirt for someone wasn’t thought of as *overtly* magical, mostly, but there’s kind of a subtext to it that presupposes any shirt could be enchanted and probably was to some extent.
And this is just scratching the surface of the academically well established stuff, with none of my own hypotheses and observations. I can go on for hours.
I have talked about knitting and fiber arts with many different women of all sorts of religion and non religion, and the vast majority of them say that when they make special items, they put some kind of intentions into the garment.
I still think Moana deserved an Oscar for this part
To me, the moral of Moana is that only women can help other women heal from male violence.
The movie starts with the idea that the male god who wronged Te Fiti must be the one to heal her. This seems to make a certain sort of intuitive sense in that I think we all believe that if you do something wrong you should try to make it right. But how does he try to right it? Through more violence. Of course that failed.
It was only when another woman, Moana, saw past the “demon of earth and fire” that the traumatized Te Fiti had become (what a good metaphor for trauma, right?) and met her with love instead of violence that she was able to heal. Note that they do the forehead press before Moana restores the heart, while Te Fiti is still Te Kā. Moana doesn’t wait for her beautiful island goddess to appear in all her green splendor before greeting and treating her as someone deserving of love.
Moana is only able to restore the heart because Te Kā reveals her vulnerability and allows Moana to touch her there. Maui and his male violence could only ever have resulted in more ruin.
…this is exactly what I was trying to say and you put it beautifully. @i-want-cheese This is why the scene makes me tear up every damn time. Women’s honest, ugly reaction to trauma is almost never even depicted in films, let alone honored the way it is in Moana. Te Fiti doesn’t have to “rise above” being violated before she’s allowed to heal. Moana sees her and says
I know your name They have stolen the heart from inside you But this does not define you
She utterly accepts Te Fiti’s rage, her fear, her lashing out at anyone who comes near the remains of her ravaged body island. Female ugliness isn’t punished, it’s mourned and loved. What an indescribably comforting moment.
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