I basically like Ellen DeGeneres; I think she's funny. I don't think you have to be raunchy to be funny, or mean. And I like that she will stand up for issues that are important to women.
So I found this clip on Facebook. I'm (a) happy that it says what it says; and (b) still flabbergasted. This lovely model speaks truth. Think about it, please. She's 6'2" tall and a size 12. Size. Twelve. And she's a "plus-size" model. What she says about loving your body just resonated with me.
The "flabbergastication" comes from the whole idea that, first of all, she's a "plus-size." She's as big as my kid, for cryin' out loud! She probably weighs less than he does, too. And as a size 12, she looks so incredibly healthy. Second, why is a size 12 (when the average woman is about a size 14 or 16) considered "plus"? Are we nuts?
Well, I know the answer to that one. Yes. We are. We worship women who look like sticks. And sadly, we worship the designers who make clothes that don't look good on you unless you are said stick. Nobody past the age of an anorexic teenager looks like that. Heck, even my one student worker, an adorable 20-year-old, has curves. And she's tiny.
So, look here. Do you get that what you see on the cover of a magazine isn't even real? Then think about what we are telling ourselves and the girls in our lives. Well, first off, we're telling them they're not worthy unless they're skinny. And beautiful. Oh, and skinny.... (yes, I repeated that deliberately).
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| Early Marilyn |
I'm not either of those things. And I'm also short. If I'm true to what the first clip is telling me, I would say, "Yes, I am beautiful." But for the sake of this discussion, I'm pretty happy with "I'm normal-looking" - I'm not striking. I'm totally not Photoshopped! I think I look fat in photos, and that's after losing those 30 lbs.
I am approximately a size 12-14, depending on what the outfit is, because of course, adding to the confusion, sizes in the US are not standardized. I used to say that I liked going into the Chico's because they have me at a size 4...notwithstanding the fact that their size 4 is just a marketing gimmick...all of their clothes are sized from 0 - 4. And most of them are things I wouldn't wear anyway. They fit funny, too.
Marilyn Monroe was a size 14. So, Marilyn, the ultimate and timeless "goddess" -- she's a plus-sized person who isn't the conventional "beauty." I mean, good grief - yes, she was beautiful, but not necessarily because of physical beauty. Look at an "early Marilyn" shot above. (all of these photos were pulled from Google) She's a cute kid. There's a spark of "something" there, which is most likely what caught some producer's eye. But other than looking like a somewhat typical blonde, she's certainly not anything like she ended up looking after Hollywood got hold of her. Truth be told, she was a brunette anyway. Blonde came later.
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| Bathing suit shot |
Here's Marilyn in a bathing suit. First of all, notice that the bathing suit actually consists of fabric... Ahem. Sorry. But this sideways shot shows (gasp!) a belly. And a bustline that looks pretty much the same as the "Early Marilyn." This is of course part of her "Hollywood-ization" and shows more of a glamour-girl persona. But you can still see that spark of her in there.
Heck, she even looks like she's got a little meat on her bones in the area of her spine. I'm not being disrespectful. If anything, I'm trying to point out that we look a lot more like Marilyn than we do say... Heidi Montag.
Take a look at Heidi's "before and after" picture below. Honestly. Really? I'm rather dumbfounded. Why on earth did she want to look like the image on the right? What did she learn? That she wasn't "good enough" looking like she did on the left? She was a pretty girl.
Now? Not so much. Again, not being disrespectful. Disdainful maybe. Judgmental definitely. And that's because I see this kind of stuff happening when I see what's in the girl's department of the local stores. Hyper-sexualizing looks and making sure that the girl doesn't feel worthy of attention unless something's buffed, puffed, or sucked - often before they even have a chance to develop their own identities, much less their own bodies. Ms. Montag now says she "regrets" what she did to herself. That bit of maturity came at a heck of a price. Does anyone look her in the face anymore? Or are they stopped half-way up?
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| Before and after... |
I mean, I was an "early bird." I developed somehow overnight at age 11. Went past "training bra" into "real bra" well before my friends did; I remember my mother remarking on how those training bras "were a waste of money, but maybe your sister can use them." The joke among the females in my family was that I got everyone's share from the Bosom Fairy. I wasn't cool with that joke for a long time. Now, I'm resigned.
I've learned to cope with the girls, and I've learned that I often have to remind people (men, sorry, but there it is) that I do have a head stuck atop my neck, thank you very much. Particularly when I worked in a more male-dominated field. "Hey, what color are my eyes?" was a standard question when someone was being a jerk. I learned early to develop my sense of sarcasm and my brains, since my sister was "the cute one" (and yes, she's still paying for that one!). I never had a "typical" figure. My build was along my great-grandma's - very "zaftig" - curvy and rather classic. However - having said that, look here at Urban Dictionary... Check out the definitions. I'm looking at the word "zaftig" as in definition number three. That's what I was taught that the word means. It's been subverted. Look at definition number five. Fat? Thanks. I prefer "Rubenesque" if you don't mind.
Yes, I was told at an early age that I was fat. My mother put me on my first diet somewhere around my freshman year in high school. That wasn't helpful. I've been battling my own body image ever since. One of my lasting later memories of Granny gets me right in the gut. No, that's not a pun. My grandmother had the luck to never fluctuate in weight. Except for pregnancy (I think, at least - I'm not sure), she never weighed more than about 128 lbs. her entire life.
As she aged, the controls went off. You know what I mean. Some of it was deliberate. "I'm 90 years old, I can say what I want." And then closer to 95, sadly, she got downright mean. Along with the dementia, there was anger or something in there. I'm not sure what. But I do remember that I didn't like visiting her. I didn't mind repeating the same thing over and over and over. I didn't mind her stories about the relatives; I actually liked those! But I vividly remember coming into her room one afternoon. She always confused me with a cousin, which was funny since we are nothing like each other. Anyway, I said, "Hi Grandma, it's me!" and she looked me in the eye and said, "You've gotten fat again."
Thanks. That made my visit even more fun. The sad thing was that my rational brain said "You know it's the dementia. You know she's been getting worse. Blow it off."
The 13-year-old girl in me just collapsed. I swallowed, tried not to cry, and said, "Nice to see you." I was thankful that my kids weren't with me.
So I need to practice what I'm preaching here. My body in its younger years was amazing. I was a gymnast (no, not one of those skinny kids) and volleyball player. I had a strong serve, and while I wasn't tall enough to be a spiker, I was a mean setter. My apparatus in gymnastics was the even parallel bars. Yes, the guys' apparatus, thanks. And I was good at it. I loved to ride horses. I ice skated. I played tennis. I rode my bike all over God's green acres. It was an old bike, none of this fancy gear-shifting stuff. A one-speed!
And now? I'm in my mid-50s. I teach yoga. I am still very flexible. I am capable of a lot of things. I can and do ride my bike (now it IS one of those fancy gear-shifting ones). I can still ice skate, thanks. I love to snow shoe. I play golf. I can shove furniture around with the best of them, and I can hike a whole case of copy paper up on my shoulder, taking it from point A to point B with no problem, thanks. I enjoy shoveling snow.
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| Glam Marilyn |
I need to make that my mantra. I need to accept what I have been given. Instead of saying, "Well, I'm better off than a lot of people," (which is still true, though somewhat self-defeating for this purpose) I need to specifically say, "I am grateful that I have flexibility. I am grateful that I am healthy."
Here's a picture of "glam Marilyn." Is she beautiful? Undoubtedly. Ethereal. Otherworldy. Stunning.
And with the saddest eyes I've ever seen.
Who was it that thought hot flashes AND a period were a good combination??? Augh. As I gradually work my way toward menopause, I am still committed to not using HRT. I don't think it's a good idea... Though my mother feels vastly different. She was just at her new gyne (the last two - men - retired and didn't bother to refer any of their patients; just "I'm leaving in June, thanks.") and she likes this gal. She's younger, so hopefully she won't bolt.
Anyway, I was shocked to hear that at age 76, my mom was STILL on HRT. I think that's nuts; but she says the doctor said it's ok. She said the doctor told her that HRT "was the reason you have all the energy you have."
Hmmmmmmmm. Still not convinced. Thanks, I'll stick to a good diet (I mean habit of eating, not "diet" diet), yoga and meditation. Can't quite get used to the idea of using pregnant mare's urine to help me out.
Pregnant mare's urine = Premarin. Seriously. Google it. And on top of that, I'm ethically against how they get the urine. These mares are kept just like veal: in a box. It's nasty and I don't want to be a part of it.
The whole "fountain of youth" thing is absurd. Your body was made to turn certain things off (do you HEAR that, uterus?????) and I think there's gotta be a more natural way of keeping your vim and vigor than ingesting hormone treatments made from horse pee. Call me crazy...
Semi-Rant on Politics, Terrorists & Education
OK, so I saw a clip of Malala on Jon Stewart. I will confess right now that I love "The Daily Show" but in spite of my enjoyment of the show, this interview will amaze you. This young lady has the Taliban shaking in their boots because... wait for it...
She wants to be educated.
Go figure. See the clip here. Watch. Be amazed at this young woman's poise and ability to articulate something that nine tenths of American teens consider "a bore." Maybe I'm over-estimating that 9/10ths figure, but I know that American teens for the most part don't seem to appreciate the gift of education we have here. Even in the under-performing schools, they get more than many, many Third World countries get.
Though I think under-performing schools have their own problems and the education system in general needs a kick in the butt. But not on a business model, thanks. Because people aren't widgets... One size does NOT fit all. Your learning patterns may change as you get older, but it seems to me that if you are one type of learner, you kind of keep that through your lifetime. I'm very visual. I can figure it out quite nicely from a book, but I like to *see* it. And I've always been that way, though I will certainly try other formats.
I see it in the students I have here at work, and those I teach on a yoga mat. Some of them respond quite well to a verbal cue. Others, I've gotta SHOW them what I mean.
So we can't just say "This is how we'll measure success" in education because the model is flawed. We can't consider that everyone learns at the same pace or in the same style. Some people freak out at tests. No matter what, they'll freak out. So we have to individualize the way we measure them.
I'm not talking about handing out "feel-good" grades. Everyone does NOT get an "A" just for showing up. But you have to take into account how people process and then regurgitate the information back for measurement. That's all.
And of course, be grateful that education is seen as an important opportunity. Because as you can clearly tell from Malala's story -- in many countries, it's not even on their radar.
What to do?
So I was at my women's group meeting the other night. I have been the group's webmaster for 10 or 12 years; been so long I can't remember. Basically the year I joined, 6 months later I was asked to take over the site.
For some reason, now that I've "been and gone" as president of the group, I seem to notice a level of cattiness that I didn't realize existed. I mean, hey -I know - women can be cattier than cats!
But at the meeting, one member seemed "off" - she's usually friendly, but lately, not so much. She asked about whether "topic X" was on the website, and I told her I hadn't done that yet. Actually, I was hoping someone in our PR committee would actually write the press release so I wouldn't have to...
Then she says, "Well, when was the last time the site was updated?" in a very challenging and snarky manner. I said, "Well, let's see...the new yearbook is up there, and we just got that at the last meeting. The new board is up there, but no picture since I haven't been able to get every board member in the same place at the same time."
Mind you, she's involved in "topic X" -- she then proceeds to inform the group that there's an event concerning "topic X" -- coming up quickly. You'd think (at least I would think) that if she was so concerned that "topic X" was not on our site, she'd have shot me an e-mail a few weeks ago (having some manners???) saying, "Hey, can you put this on the website?"
But no. Snarking at me in a meeting is apparently more fun. So our current president said to the entire group, "You know, we could use help on the website since it's been the sole responsibility of only one member for so long... surely there's another techie person or two who'd be willing to offer help?"
Crickets. Particularly from the Cranky One.
I suppose I could've been snarky back, but I believe that only escalates the situation. Not worth it. Again, let your mask slip - show your true witchy-ness in front of others. No matter to me. I'm just sitting there letting it roll.
I used to enjoy the snark. But now I don't. I'm just tired of it being all "high school mean girls." But unfortunately, it's part of my job to be involved in service organizations and frankly - I just don't feel like I want to expend the energy right now to join a new one. Kind of "the devil you know" if you know what I mean.
Yoga
Last night, I was back at my regular yoga class, as a student. And the weirdness appears to have passed. Sweetly, my teacher thanked me in front of the rest of the class for teaching for her while she was gone. It was nice.
And our after-class chat was more like it used to be.
I'm subbing more (tonight and Friday a.m.) and thankfully, one of the other teachers stepped up to do Saturday -- one of our regular teachers has a child who's ill, and we're trying to keep her classes going because if you continue to cancel, you lose the students.
We'll see how this works out. I don't honestly like teaching this much while I still have a full-time job, but I also don't like to see something whither away because nobody else will step up to help out. We're in this together. If the studio struggles, we as teachers and yogis struggle.
Knitting
Almost -- ALMOST -- ready to assemble the charity afghan. I have about 4 - 6 more ends to weave in on the last square. Finally.
Then, I have to continue working on The Fluffy Scarf Project. And I made a huge - HUGE - mistake in the Cathedral Lace scarf.
Note to self: DO NOT TRY TO KNIT A ROW OF LACE when you have a migraine. It just doesn't work. And another note: DON'T TRY TO FROG IT WHEN YOU SCREW IT UP. Need to take this one to my knitting buddies because I think I really did badly and I'm not frogging the whole thing (my first impulse) -- I have about 8 - 9" on this thing already done and I just don't want to start it over.
So once that's all back underway, I can concentrate on ... more knitting!
I might actually be able to pick up the Teal Socks again. Or (gasp!) start something new! Or work on the Nephew Afghan. Or, as Kid #2 reminds me, "Your last son DOES NOT HAVE AN AFGHAN YET." Subtle, that boy... Hey, I have it cast on.
I guess I'd better get some real work done.
So I'm a day late for the 100th Anniversary of International Women's Day. You can find out about it at this website: http://www.internationalwomensday.com/
And if you don't know already, here's a newsflash. There are still areas in this world where women are treated as less-than-livestock. Check out CEDAW (Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women). And please note who hasn't signed onto this document, which is known as "the international bill of rights for women."
I am absolutely ashamed to say that the US has not signed this. Nope. Believe it or not, it's been around for over 30 years, and the US has apparently decided (so far) that it's not necessary that we sign onto this. Really?
How can we go into another country on any kind of human rights mission and hold our head up? How can we say to Afghanistan, for example, "You have to treat your women better" when we haven't seen fit to endorse something as simple as this legislation which calls for women to be treated equally to men.
Notice, I said "equally" --- pay parity, access to education, health care and the other "benefits" of living that men take for granted.
My state senator, Dick Durbin, is trying hard to get this treaty passed. See this clip:
http://durbin.senate.gov/watchClip.cfm?clipId=ce5355fd-0245-4a1f-84a6-edde5f28c05b
See the lovely company the US is in?? Really - we're right in there with Sudan and Iraq in our reluctance to sign this treaty. And as Durbin said, this is hardly a new issue, since CEDAW has been around for at least 30 years.
Anyway, back to International Women's Day. We celebrated at my Zonta club last night (see http://www.zonta.org/ for more information) and indicated that we were going to help Afghan women, via donations, to attend school. How wonderful that we can bring Zonta's mission, Advancing the Status of Women Worldwide, to an immediate situation such as this. Helping women in a war-torn country go to school so that they can support their families - I can't tell you how happy this made me when we voted to begin this project.
Think about the women in your life. Don't they deserve equality in their own lives? My oldest son has a t-shirt -which I did not buy for him, and I'm proud that he wears it proudly.
It says: Feminism is the radical notion that women are people, too.
Couldn't have said it any better myself. I'll have to find out where he got that shirt!
...can change the way you see things with regard to Afghanistan and Pakistan.
Greg Mortenson wrote this book with David Oliver Relin - mainly because Mortenson is publicity-shy and doesn't like to talk about himself.
Visit www.ikat.org - the Central Asia Institute's website. You need to read this book.
He failed to climb K2, but he succeeded beyond anyone's imagination in his ability to educate children in the poorest regions of Afghanistan and Pakistan - yep, right in Taliban-Land.
We don't realize how much we take an education for granted. And we don't know how much one person can do (either globally or locally) until we see someone doing it. Mortenson started his school-building initiative on his part-time wages as an ER nurse, and lived on a literal shoestring till he was funded by another climber who was impressed by what he saw Mortenson doing.
Educating children. Think about that. Babies are not born KNOWING how to hate or fear. They are TAUGHT that. If you educate the girls, which was forbidden by the Taliban, though the Koran said that women need to be educated - if you educate the girls, the villages will prosper and the next generation will know that peace can only be achieved by educating yourself and your children. Peace can't be achieved at gunpoint.
It takes $1 to educate a girl and ONE PENNY to buy a pencil. One penny. That copper coin we're thinking of getting rid of because it's 'bothersome' and 'useless.'
Get your schools involved. Get your church involved. Buy the book. Read it. Pass it on. Or donate it to your library, since there are waiting lists to read this.
And get yourself involved. Donate to the Central Asia Institute or start a community drive to raise funds. Nobody wants war forever, except the corporations who benefit from the dollars pouring into their coffers.
We can teach peace. One school at a time. This book - this man - has proved that.
