I Am a Feminist Because I Love You.

I know I haven’t posted in ages, but I’ve been meaning to write this entry for a while now. Even if life is happening and I am going through a number of quarter-life challenges (anyone willing to offer me a job? loljk), I will try to pay more attention to this blog because I have high hopes for it. I don’t expect to influence government policy or legislation, or single-handedly change the landscape of advertising and media, which has been anti-feminist and anti-woman for a very long time. I am only a pedestrian who cares about what I see around me, and I want whoever stumbles upon this blog to just think about the things we take for granted everyday. To ask questions. To stop accepting things at face value. To have the guts to call out the rude guy who just made a homophobic joke. To see the misogyny in a popular beer commercial. To boycott institutions and companies that support the cultures of inequality and exploitation. To be unafraid.

So many people are allergic to the word “feminist.” I think a lot of this has to do with the brainwashing and stereotyping that patriarchal pop culture has subjected us to. There are many kinds of feminists, and yes, sometimes even they themselves disagree and wage wars against each other. But for those of us who do think for ourselves, and are just passionate about equality, and see the need to abolish an abusive, exploitative patriarchy responsible for so many of the problems and ills of society, the politics of the word must not get in the way of our cause.

If you are not comfortable being called a feminist yet, it’s okay. I myself am very wary of all the “-isms” and labels, because I know they are tied to centuries of history and theory that I will probably never totally comprehend. I’m comfortable calling myself a feminist though, because I see the necessity for it right now, right here. If men and women (and the LGBT, the poor, the disabled, the religious/ ethnic minorities, and other “underdogs”) were already treated equally, feminism would be pointless– probably even misandric, or pertaining to the hatred of men. Which is really as horrible as misogyny, or the hatred of women. But we have not yet achieved this kind of equality in all aspects. We do not yet live in a world that has rendered feminism obsolete.

I am comfortable calling myself a feminist because I identify with Wikipedia’s (I know, so pedestrian. Whatevs, I love wikipedes.) definition of feminism, which is “a collection of movements aimed at defining, establishing, and defending equal political, economic, and social rights and equal opportunities for women. Its concepts overlap with those of women’s rights. Feminism is mainly focused on women’s issues, but because feminism seeks gender equality, some feminists argue that men’s liberation is therefore a necessary part of feminism, and that men are also harmed by sexism and gender roles.”

The reason feminism focuses on women’s issues, is because it is women who are usually disenfranchised by the policies and culture of patriarchy. Men are already up there, and we aren’t trying to pull them down. We’re just trying to get to where they are, too, and this does not mean we have to become them (this is going to be a whole other blog entry altogether).

That being said, I believe I am a feminist not out of hate or anger, but because of love. I cannot fight the way my heart breaks when I meet a quiet boy who is scared to talk to anyone out of fear of his effeminate gestures giving away his homosexuality, and consequentially getting him beaten up. I will not shut up about the unrest I feel whenever I hear someone tell a girl that the short dress she is wearing to a party is just “asking for it.” I cannot just look the other way when I see a teenager being alienated for being different– being punished for being who they are.

We don’t live in a rom-com, or in Mean Girls, or in She’s All That. When a kid gets bullied, she doesn’t usually become prom queen right before the credits roll. The real world isn’t all hugs and kisses, but truthfully, it isn’t all rape and suicide either. I think most of the time we live in the middle ground, a place filled with stereotyping, objectification, and occasional self-hatred. What we have to realize, however, is how these seemingly harmless little actions and words become our patterns of thought, which influence our roles in society. You may not be a rapist, and may never, ever hurt a woman physically, but that funny commercial you just ran featuring the possessive macho man and his subservient trophy girlfriend? It could be telling a lost soul out there that it’s okay to punch his wife in a fit of rage, because she is his property.

I am a feminist because I love you, because I love this world. And I don’t want it to fall apart.

Rape Culture

So let’s finally end this culture of victim blaming, please.

In Someone Else’s Words

“I call myself a patriarchal woman because I was socially programmed, as are most women and men, not to see the ways in which women are oppressed by traditional gender roles. I say that I’m recovering because I learned to recognise and resist that programming. For me, such recognition and resistance will always require effort — I’m recovering rather than recovered — not just because I internalised patriarchal programming years ago but because that program continues to assert itself in my world: in movies, television shows, books, magazines, and advertisements as well as in the attitudes of salespeople who think I can’t learn to operate a simple machine, repair technicians who assume I won’t know if they’ve done a shoddy job, and male drivers who believe I’m flattered by sexual offers shouted from passing cars (or, worse, who don’t give a moments thought to how I might feel or, worse yet, who hope I feel intimidated so they can feel powerful). The point here is fairly simple: patriarchy continually exerts forces that undermine women’s self-confidence and assertiveness, then points to the absence of these qualities as proof that women are naturally, and therefore correctly, self-effacing, and submissive.”

Lois Tyson, Critical Theory Today: A User-Friendly Guide

Why Willie Revillame Needs to Go

Willie Revillame is the most disgusting person in Philippine television today, or possibly, ever. I grew up in a typical Filipino household in Metro Manila, which meant that I was, and still am, constantly exposed to the noon-time show phenomenon. Although I never liked them much myself, I knew Little Miss Philippines, Calendar Girls, Pera O Bayong, and other similar games and contests. I am no stranger to  John Estrada, Vic Sotto, and of course, Willie Revillame.

I don’t know what it is about local TV, but they have always liked hiring game show hosts who are chauvinists and misogynists– sorry excuses for “comedians.” So many, if not all, of the jokes are at the expense of the sexy dancers who gyrate practically naked on prime time television, or on the desperate contestants who line up for hours outside TV station studios just to get a chance to play for a few to several thousand pesos.

Many will say that this is because they are supposed to appeal to the “masses,” who they therefore see as throngs of brain-dead paupers who will eat any shit up, even if it involves exploiting themselves, and their children, for a few thousand pesos. Do you honestly think, that, given the choice, the average Wowowee or Willing Willie contestant would choose to cry on national television, sharing their darkest, most humiliating secrets and stories over and over again with laughing strangers, for a couple thousand bucks? Or do you think that, given the choice, the female dancers would prefer to be hit on repeatedly and objectified and embarrassed by Willie Revillame for “ratings?”

I think what we have here is a deep cultural problem that cannot be discussed, criticized, and studied only in blogs, in 140-word twitter boxes, and in facebook statuses and groups. This needs to be taken to actual government offices, authorities, and universities, so this cultural phenomenon of prime time oppression can end. We are on a sick carousel wherein the media continue to exploit and humiliate the masses in order to appeal to them. Can anyone else see how absolutely fucked up this is? They are insinuating that we are a masochistic people, when we definitely are not. What these game shows like Wowowee and Willing Willie do is, they take the most desperate amongst us, the poorest urban Filipinos, and make a spectacle out of them to up their ratings. They push their buttons, push them into corners, push them over the edge, and find some sick joy in seeing how far they would go in making fools of themselves for a small sum of money (loose change to people like Willie Revillame and Manny Pangilinan). And of course, when you call them out on their shit, they just feed you more bullshit. This is because bullshit is all that Willie Revillame is made of, and the only language he speaks is that of jeers and obnoxious laughter.

Maybe a few of you are wondering what brought all this about? On March 12, 2011, a little boy named Jan Jan Estrada appeared on Willie Revillame’s show, Willing Willie, on TV5, the local TV station owned by Manny Pangilinan (the billionaire accused not too long ago of using plagiarized speeches at the Ateneo). He was very shy and obviously did not seem comfortable being in the limelight. His parents were not with him in the studio; instead, he was accompanied by an aunt who was a huge Willie Revillame fan, crying and coming close to hysterics when the host hugged her. For money, Willie then made Jan Jan dance (like a macho dancer/ male stripper) in front of the entire studio audience, which erupted into a wave of merciless, taunting laughter. It was like throwing a baby chick into a den of hyenas, and anyone who cannot see how traumatizing this would be for a 6-year-old is clearly kidding himself/ herself. The little boy wore a frown the entire time, and tears even rolled down his cheeks. To make matters worse, Willie made him repeat this three more times, and poor Jan Jan was crying all throughout.

Here is a longer video of the entire Jan Jan segment, followed by a shorter one that just shows the little boy’s miserable dancing (for those who don’t have as much time). See all of it for yourselves and tell me if it isn’t downright cruel child exploitation.

Philippine media continues to dumb down its viewers on the pretext of “entertainment.” Can you believe, that in our country, Willie Revillame is seen as the beacon of hope for the poor?! When he treats them that way? He is a social evil that blows my mind. But how can we expect more educational, intelligent, and/or socially responsible shows when we can’t even count on our own government to invest in proper education? IS THERE AN ONGOING CONSPIRACY TO ERADICATE THE FILIPINO RACE THAT I DON’T KNOW OF??? Because that is exactly where we’re headed.

This is the perfect opportunity to stress that feminism is not only a fight for equal rights for women, but a movement that protects all the “marginalized” sectors of society– those outside what is deemed “macho” and patriarchal, those who are not in the positions of power, and all those who are continually subjected to institutionalized oppression, objectification, degradation, and the like. This includes women, children, the poor, and other sectors as well. I will write another entry on all that, but for now, I just want to concentrate on Willie and how he, as well as the writers and producers of TV5, exploited Jan Jan Estrada last March 12, 2011 on national television.

The Department of Social Welfare and Development issued this statement today, and I really hope something is done to end Willie Revillame’s career once and for all. For those of you who don’t know him (which rock formation were you hiding under all these years?), he is also TV’s biggest chauvinist. Just catch him on one of his shows (or is Willing Willie his only show now?), and you will feel sick and violated. At least that is exactly how I feel every time he opens his stupid mouth.

http://www.gov.ph/2011/03/28/statement-of-the-dswd-on-the-ordeal-of-six-year-old-jan-jan-estrada-during-the-march-12-2011-episode-of-willing-willie/

Jan Jan’s parents spoke up and said that they did not think their son was exploited, and that they were happy and thankful for the opportunity they had on the show. TV5 came out with an idiotic response talking about how the little boy was actually crying because he was afraid of one of the tall audience members, and not because he did not want to dance. Really. What advanced level of idiot do you take me for? Poverty is not an excuse for a child to have to deal with certain conditions that he or she would have otherwise been protected from had his or her parents been middle class, or more concerned with his welfare. Children’s rights are children’s rights. Poverty does not prescribe them a different set. This is one thing our country has to learn, if it is to ever change. And it is our job to make sure it does.

Why I Hate Terry Richardson, and Why You Should Too

With the advent of Tumblr and the internet world’s sudden hipster ambition, the mustachioed, bespectacled, plaid-clad photographer Terry Richardson has practically become a household name.

For those who are not heavy cyberlurkers and procrastinators who spend all day reading memes and reblogging pictures of dewy Hollywood actresses or furry little animals in shoes, Terry’s stuff has come out in a lot of magazines as well, and, at least in the Philippines, in all our Aldo shoe stores. Yes, his style is of that overexposed, raunchy, studio headshot sort. He is regarded as a god on Tumblr and in the hip young scene, with his edgy, sometimes suggestive, but most often explicit photographs being reblogged by throngs of wide-eyed, young, impressionable girls and boys. But why do I hate Terry Richardson so much?

First of all, the guy is a sexual predator. Feminist or not, who the hell wouldn’t be angry about that? Oh right, just other sexual predators. The beautiful model (and feminist!) Rie Rasmussen slammed Richardson last year for producing work that she claims is degrading to women, and for taking advantage of his young models (who would do anything to get a break in their careers) while on shoots. Here is the article on Rasmussen: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/03/12/supermodel-rie-rasmussen_n_496491.html

After Rasumussen, ex-model Jamie Peck came out with an account of how Terry Richardson got naked at one of their shoots and made her touch his penis. You can read the horrifying article here: http://thegloss.com/fashion/terry-richardson-is-really-creepy-one-models-story/

Ah, but of course. Anti-feminists masquerading as intellectuals-playing-devil’s-advocate will bring up the possibility of all this being made-up, perhaps a conspiracy to soil good ol’ Uncle Terry’s reputation and successful career. Maybe these girls were paid to say these things? Maybe they never really happened? Maybe Terry Richardson really just is a misunderstood little “facilitator of fun” (as he calls himself) and it is we who are killjoys and wet blankets?

But I think his photographs speak for themselves. I would hate Terry Richardson even if he was never accused of doing creepy, disgusting, predatory things on set. Richardson is known for his explicit, “practically porn” photographic style. His “edgy” shots are often the result of a pretty simple equation= violence + sex. He has a ton of pictures of pretty, young girls (usually in suggestive clothing but often also just showing their bare breasts) in compromising positions, wielding some phallic symbol or other. They could be sucking on a bottle, their finger, or licking a knife covered in blood. But what message do all these photos send? Terry Richardson’s pictures objectify women. They turn them into sex objects, beautiful little play things that a man can keep in his home, much like he would keep an exotic Siberian tiger or a 4.5 litre pre-war Bentley. Terry’s women are edgy, naked, covered in blood, or making out with each other (for the pleasure of the male onlookers, aka Terry himself). There is just something so disturbing about his photos. When one objectifies another person (i.e. a woman), we turn her into something less than human. She is no longer a subject—a complex, feeling, thinking, multi-faceted person— but an object. She is passive and weak, without any power. A sex toy will let you do unto her whatever you want to do. Except these women are not sex toys. They are real women—actresses, models, young girls—made to look like Lolitas or crack whores or whatever else you want them to be. Subconsciously, the woman is seen as a thing, and not as a real person, and as we all know, objects don’t feel. Violence against her then becomes almost acceptable because she is, after all, not alive.

Then of course there is that old “but sex is empowering” argument. Please, that deserves an entire blog entry of its own. Sex is not empowering when you are constantly made the object of a dirty old man’s fantasies, and he has the camera and the influence to manipulate you and make you do things you would otherwise never do. The key word here is exploitation.

If a person’s photography shows us the way he or she sees the world, or his or her subjects, I have to say that Terry Richardson must hate women. Through the pictures, we see what he sees through his lens—sex dolls, prostitutes, crack whores, fuck toys, rape victims, fake lesbians. He has no respect for the woman, and the woman’s body. Here’s a NSFW photo for proof: http://s3.amazonaws.com/data.tumblr.com/ZtqLmyi9Lp2k1em04bROG17lo1_1280.jpg?AWSAccessKeyId=0RYTHV9YYQ4W5Q3HQMG2&Expires=1300378880&Signature=g3nH5%2B0ddl1OsAcIlgHDO1ioCgw%3D

I am insulted by his “art,” which, I think, is simply glorified still pornography. But for those who insist that his really is an art, albeit a less mainstream, more acquired taste– I have this to say: His “art” is misogynistic, anti-feminist, and degrading, whichever way you look at it. Society does not tolerate racist art. Why should it feel differently about sexist art?

See more of his stuff here: http://fuckyeahterryrichardson.tumblr.com/

You cannot be a feminist and like Terry Richardson. The end.

International Women’s Day

Happy International Women’s Day, everyone! Don’t just hug a feminist, be a feminist!

I’ve been quite busy lately, hence the absence of new posts, but I will try my best to get this thing breathing again. In keeping with today’s occasion, I am sharing one of my favorite spoken word poems (and poets), “Blue Blanket” by Andrea Gibson. Now, now, some bbfeminists might cringe at her “butch” appearance and probably jump to conclusions once again about all feminists being Rosie O’Donnell lesbian clones (not that there’s anything wrong with that), and they might even stop reading this blog (like I have readers … well maybe someday), but I think she is absolutely wonderful. For those of you who aren’t big on spoken word, give this a chance. It’s saying some pretty amazing things. I especially love the end; it gives me goosebumps every single time. So please watch it all the way through.

Once again, happy International Women’s Day! <3

Raise Your Glass

P!nk’s latest single, a tribute to the underdogs. Can’t help but connect this to the recent gay teen suicides in the US. School bullying is often overlooked and it is about time everyone became more aware of the ramifications of this sort of thing. Some of the most interesting, talented, and beautifully unique members of the human race are being finished off by this sort of behavior!

P!nk is dressed in the end as Rosie the Riveter, an American cultural and feminist icon from World War II. Rosie is usually depicted wearing overalls or other work clothes, as she represents the many women who took on the jobs (often mechanical, menial) of their husbands or other men who had to serve in the military.

Overall, the chorus is pretty catchy and fun, and the video is interesting too. Ok, for some reason, I’m now craving a corndog and some milk.