There's a fly in the soup; there is patriarchy in my religion

As the information under my picture suggests, I am a fan of people who devote their lives to unpopular causes. Perhaps I should add: even if I disagree with them.

I applaud actress Kirsten Dunst for speaking up about femininity and the definition of womanhood (even if I don’t entirely agree with how she defines these things):

I feel like the feminine has been a little undervalued. We all have to get our own jobs and make our own money, but staying at home, nurturing, being the mother, cooking—it's a valuable thing my mom created. And sometimes you need your knight in shining armor. I'm sorry. You need a man to be a man and a woman to be a woman. That's why relationships work.

I occasionally read PluggedIn movie reviews. It’s sponsored by Focus on the Family, but the reviews can be snarky and funny. I take issue with their response to Ms. Dunst’s words:

“[Dunst’s] viewpoint is increasingly challenged these days, and it's harder and harder to see the proper path forward while still holding tight to the past, to the traditions God Himself initiated.”

Read their full article here. Some of the comments are excellent.

My head is spinning as I try to remember where in the Bible it states that all women must be stay-at-home mothers and let their husbands be the sole breadwinners. I don’t even recall where it states that all women HAVE to become mothers. As a soon-to-be-married woman who doesn’t want kids (for now), it troubles me to think of the reactions I might face when I try shopping for a new church where my fiancé lives. Any attitude suggesting women have to be this or that is an automatic dealbreaker.

I cannot understand how it’s “unbiblical” for marriages to be treated as partnerships, where each couple makes decisions that are best for them and their families; why it’s considered unreasonable in many conservative circles for men to help out with chores and child-rearing; why a woman choosing to have a career is accused of neglecting her children. I went to daycare as a kid while my mom worked; I think I turned out okay. When my dad got sick and had to retire, mom took over financially. Do ultra-conservatives somehow believe they are above that possibility?

But no matter which path you choose, there is disdain to be met at every turn. The disdain for women who choose to be stay-at-home mothers is also backlash in the face of feminism. It has to stop.

I can’t deny that these attitudes have a direct impact on my faith and the way I relate to Jesus. Even though I firmly believe Jesus valued women (he saved the life of one about to be stoned for adultery, per Old Testament law, after all), if other Christians who claim to represent him cannot allow for equality in their definition of womanhood, then the result is simple: the church will have no women.

Respect, dignify, and above all, listen to individual women and their stories, or we leave the church. Engage with us in discussion and consider the impact of our leadership skills, or we leave the church. Maybe not all of us in droves, but this particular woman will pack her bags if things do not change.

I know this wouldn’t happen on a large enough scale to wake people up. Sadly, there are plenty of women perpetuating anti-feminist viewpoints, because they have never been taught what feminism is supposed to be: a radical notion that women are people; an idea that goes beyond politics, religious differences, and social status.

Ironically, I have met more women lately who actively promote patriarchy (like this woman who told me "We don't need feminism in America!"). They look at me like I’m holding a dead squirrel when I dare to admit I am a feminist. That, too, must stop. 

Always have to wear with a cross. Always.

"We don't need feminism in America"

I was about to have another one of my “Sarahbeth might be closeted liberal” moments earlier today, based on my reaction from this blog a friend of mine shared on Facebook. The blogger describes herself as being “Christian, anti-feminist, pro-patriarchy.”

Oy vey. My heart definitely lurched into my throat when I read that.

But then I stepped away from my laptop for a moment (smart move) and realized my outrage has nothing to do with possibly being “liberal” or not.  Or conservative, really. What do those labels actually mean? My outrage stems from the complete ignorance of what feminism is, based on the ways it’s being perverted in the media. It has an ugly side, like all well-intentioned movements do. We can argue until we’re blue in the face about whether feminists should support abortion, or be stay-at-home moms, what have you. But Christian or atheist, male or female, I cannot understand why it’s so hard for us to agree on the fact that women are people, and as such, they deserve to be dignified.

Intelligent people understand that just because some loudmouth politician who calls himself a Christian is against gay rights (not just marriage, but against a homosexual being fired simply for being homosexual) does not mean all Christians agree with him.

Intelligent people understand that one negative encounter with someone of a different race does not mean all people of that race are bad.

Intelligent people understand that the militant “feminazis” (a term I abhor) do not represent all feminists. We are not out to supplant men, oppress them, or degrade them. Those who do are missing the whole point.

My heart wants to react violently when I hear people say, “We don’t need feminism in America!” I’ll be honest and admit that I’m hesitant to use expressions like “war on women” because life for women in this country is not nearly as oppressive as, say, women in the Middle East who are assaulted with acid for the crime of wanting to be educated. We are so blessed to not have to face that kind of persecution here.

But that doesn’t mean life is ideal for women in America. There are scores of men who are running Congress who make extremely damaging remarks about domestic violence, which influence society’s view of it as a whole. Those attitudes ruin lives. They destroy the dignity of women’s souls. They hurt women, their children, and create an attitude of shame that directly affects the impact they leave on this world. You cannot operate out of shame and expect to live a productive life. Sadly, more often that not, men with the utmost privilege, who cannot fathom what it’s like to be judged by their clothing choices or their decision to work outside the home, are the ones promoting these attitudes.

But it’s not just men. Women like the creator of that blog have also bought the lie that the entire feminist movement is damaging and irrelevant because politics have gotten in the way of simply affirming humanity. Can we please go back to the beginning, when it was decided that a movement was necessary to affirm the humanity of women??

We need feminism in America. We need feminism in churches. We need feminism in every corner of the world where there is even one iota of injustice. We need men who strive to dignify the women in their lives: their wives, mothers, daughters, sisters. We need feminism to teach women that they are more than vaginas. More than sex objects.

We need feminism, period.

Selfish with a dash of good? Or vice versa?

Leaving my internship yesterday, I heard a voice call out “Hey Sarahbeth! Can I borrow a dollar?”

I looked up to see a somewhat disheveled man standing in front of me; possibly homeless but hard to tell. At first I was confused how he knew my name, but he probably read it off my custom-printed bag. In that bag was a hefty chunk of cash from my four babysitting jobs that I planned to take directly to the grocery store, in addition to a very expensive Macbook.

The man was only asking for a dollar; not a huge expense on my part. I could and should have given one to him. Yet all I could think was, I can’t let my guard down and risk having my stuff stolen.

I offered him some of my Ramen noodle stash instead, which he politely declined. Getting into my car, I felt like a failure as both a Christian and a human being. I could have done more, and I chastised myself for living in a world where concern for one’s personal safety trumps compassion; where being a single woman alone in a city means automatically fearing any man that approaches, even if his intentions aren’t malicious.

But is it really about safety? Or is there underlying prejudice that prompts us to say “no” when asked to give? Or when we notice people whose lives are radically different from our own?

I don’t always remember to lock my doors when I get in my car, but I lock them when I pass a cluster of teenagers in downtown Denver, always thinking It would be so easy to unlock the passenger door at a stoplight and grab my laptop/purse/whatever. Once, during a discussion group at church, a student was talking about how selfish we can be when there’s an opportunity for outreach: did Jesus not call us to serve others, no matter the personal risk to ourselves? My instinct was to protest, “You don’t understand! You are not a woman who looks ten years younger than she actually is; the world is not as dangerous a place for you, of course it’s easy for you to say that.”

Thankfully I wasn’t the only one thinking this, and the discussion turned into a battle of the sexes: the men kept insisting we (the females) were more concerned about ourselves than others in need, while the women kept insisting that Jesus would never advocate purposefully putting ourselves in danger if we didn’t absolutely have to.

On the drive home I stopped to allow more cars into my lane than usual, as if trying to atone for my selfishness before; once again deceiving myself into looking at salvation as some kind of points-based system. In the end, I am just one person with good intentions who often falls short. I can only do so much. But I feel guilty just the same.

If a man opened Pandora's box

What if the gender roles were reversed, and suddenly,
the world was no longer a safe place

for men?

What if a male stranger should fear me

on the streets at night,

the New Female Predator,

and his gut instinct
was to gird his balls

like women do with their attractiveness,

so as not to make himself
a target?

What if men were taught

that Fear is the new Sexy,

that involuntary arousal

is code for "Yes Please,"

and his gender alone

is his own personal Armageddon?

What if it had been
a man

who opened Pandora's box?

After being hit on at Barnes & Noble

I received a compliment

(or something resembling one)

between the aisles of Poetry and Fiction

at Barnes & Noble, from a wannabe representative of Smooth Talkers Anonymous:

Far too pretty to be reading books.

I wonder how many tragic young women,

digging through Plath and Dickinson

in search of validation, would allow themselves to be flattered by this drivel?

How many would allow this blatant chauvinism

to infiltrate their hard-won rooms of their own?

I think of my teenage self,

curve-less and wiry-haired,

unpopular, yet proud to admit
that the love of my life is named Gilbert,
and you may not have heard of him
because he lives in a book.

Therein was the real reason I was single
for so long, but nonetheless satisfied

with who I was. I saw the world through fiction,

allowing me to avoid the real-life villains

with the hope that,

if characters are created by humans,

surely they can be embodied by
real humans, too.

"Too pretty" to be reading books,
you say?

Too bad.

The most attractive man (I think)

is a man well-read.

The male privilege poem

Another excerpt from the upcoming book. One of my favorites so far!

"Why don't you smile?"
the man at Starbucks said.
"I bet you have such a pretty smile."

This, from a complete stranger,
who knows not my circumstances,
my private battles,
my very life.

I gape at him and his broad shoulders,
and his condescending "Because I can" veneer.
Please, I think, Contain your male privilege,
its crumby texture already snowflaking
on my table. Let me enjoy my coffee.

Also! Here's a preview of my snazzy new cover (the back cover text may change 50 more times before I declare it finished. Hard to accurately summarize a collection of poems when the subject matter is all over the place). My new designer, Amy Queau, did this for FREE and she is a special kind of wonderful.

Nothing to laugh about: excerpt from Someone You Already Know

It's sad and disappointing when people you once respected make jokes about things that just aren't funny. It's even more unfortunate when they defend such jokes, despite being told about their offensive nature. I wish these incidents didn't bother me so much, but I wouldn't want to be a rape crisis counselor if they didn't. So today, I think it's appropriate to share a similar scenario depicted in Someone You Already Know:

I take my usual seat at lunch by the vending machines and wait for Elisabeth when I hear a male voice behind me say “Man, I really got raped by that Algebra exam today.”

There are a million different reactions I could have to an ignorant statement like this. On one hand, I can ignore it. The kid is an idiot. He doesn’t know. But I can feel the blood pounding in my veins, rushing swiftly in my ears, and what I really want to do is turn and scream at the little fool. 

But to scream…to fight…to make any sound in my defense, that’s something I just don’t know how to do. Something I don’t know how to do well.

How does a word like rape, loaded with stigma and designed to shock, manage to get reduced to such common, blasé terminology to describe something as mundane as an Algebra test? Whether he meant to offend or not, just how stupid can some people be to not realize the full impact of their words?

I don’t have to say anything in my defense. A voice that sounds remarkably like Trevor’s calls out: “Hey! You think rape is something to joke about? You wouldn’t if it happened to you.”

I can’t not turn around now to see the looks on those guys’ faces; I think they feel genuinely remorseful now, seeing me sitting only a table away, but they also look shocked to hear a guy rebuke them in such a way. I can see the confused looks on their faces now: why would a guy speak out against a rape joke? After all, they’re probably thinking, it’s not like guys can be raped. 

If it was me who yelled at them, or some other girl, the sad reality is they’d probably have laughed and said something along the lines of “Lighten up.”

Someone You Already Know: chapter sneak peak

This is my favorite chapter in the book, a conversation about who society is more unfair to: men or women?

     I decide to take the risk and see what happens. “I’m sort of having a fight with Elisabeth.”

     He raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

     I stare deeply into my cup. It’s easier to be honest without making eye contact. “Yeah. She was involved with this guy for a while, and she broke up with him because she says he didn’t treat her right. I guess I just don’t understand…I mean, if he was as bad as she says, why didn’t she leave him sooner? She’s a smart girl, you know?”

     “Ahh.” I look up and see that he doesn’t look about to run away. He actually seems captivated. “Well, I don’t know anything about the workings of the female psyche. So I won’t hazard a guess for why she didn’t leave him. Not to defend this guy if he really was a jerk, but being the guy in a relationship is a lot harder than women think it is.”

     I feel my defenses tightening, and for a split second I wonder why in the world I thought talking to him was a good idea. But I can’t help it; I’m intrigued by his statement. “Really? Enlighten me, because in my experience, women are the ones who are unfairly judged and labeled when they don’t deserve it.” 

     Wow. I actually sound like I’m defending Elisabeth now. What is going on here?

     Trevor leans forward. “I have an older brother who went out with this girl he met at an animal rights rally. She was a feminist; a real piece of work, in my opinion. No offense. Anyway, she was really defensive about anything Thomas would do for her that was nice: holding doors open, pulling chairs out, helping her with her coat. Stuff I always thought you were supposed to do. But Kelly…man, she really hated when he’d do that. They broke up after two months because she was so radical, and I know my brother is a good guy.” 

     He shook his head. “I think it’s sad and funny the way women expect men to treat them with respect, but never give them a chance to do so because the media conditions them to assume we’re all predators. I’ve held doors open for women and gotten yelled at for it, because you know, they’re more than capable of opening their own doors. That’s actually what happened the night of that party. I saw a girl struggling to get through the door here at Starbucks with an armload of books, and she chastised me for treating her like she was made of china when I offered to help. So that’s why I was such a jerk to you that night. I was really angry.”

     And here I thought that my issues would scare him off. I feel like I should be angry by his assertion that most men are misunderstood. I feel like I should be telling him to spend a day in my shoes, see how the tables are turned.

     Surprisingly, I am calm and curious. “Okay, so maybe men are unfairly judged at times. But as a male, the world isn’t a scary place for you as it is for women. We live in a world where a woman is blamed if she’s attacked while walking alone and wearing a skirt, because ‘she should have known better.’ It’s not the same…”

     “Looks like men and women are both victims of injustice then. All of humanity sucks. Let’s drink to that!”

     I laugh, in spite of myself. “You know, maybe you’re right.”

     His smile morphs into a straight line suddenly. “Regarding Elisabeth…” He stares into his lap, and wrings his hands uncomfortably. “If women are taught to assume the worst about men – because you know, we’re all bad guys – well, the way her boyfriend treated her wouldn’t have shocked her much, would it? She probably thought whatever he did was normal. Think about it.”

     Once again, he leaves me speechless. He stands up before I can think of how to respond. “My break is over,” he informs me. With that, he places a tentative hand on my shoulder that actually felt caring, not threatening. “We’re not all bad guys, Katherine,” he said. “I think most of us are assholes only when prompted to be. Not by default.”

     I’m still speechless as he re-ties his apron and returns behind the counter.