This Is Not a List of Blogging Resolutions

I'm not one for making New Year's resolutions, but speaking up outside one's safe spaces seems like a good one.

Maybe I'm not making formal resolutions, but I've been thinking a lot about the direction this blog is taking. Full disclosure: I started this site because I knew of few women music bloggers (I know many now), but also because I'd been laid off my other blogging gig, something that had been both a blessing and a curse. Resurrecting Five Dollar Radio, I felt freer than I had in a while writing, but not immune to falling into the same traps I had in the past: sticking to a blogging schedule without the reward of a monthly paycheck, and the general apathy that comes with penning a site few people read (I'm kind of like one of the patients in the movie Awakenings -- I need someone to throw the ball to me before I can willfully respond).

A year ago, I thought I wanted to make this exclusively a site about women and music: those who create it, play it, produce it, but also those who write about it. Women are too frequently shut out of the intellectual sphere even when it comes to something as banal and trite as pop culture. And I wanted to focus on those women who talk about music -- who make you think how it relates to your own life or the culture at large. But other things kept getting in the way. I started participating more in the feminist blogosphere (yes, I know this is a horrible name, but until someone comes up with a better one, I'm using it) and reading more women who think like me, or act like me, and I've wanted to write about about stuff other than music.

So I just might.

I have no idea where this site will be going in the next few months, or year, even. But I spend a lot of time second guessing myself: is this right? Is this okay? I read a quote from Amy Richards in Bitch magazine several years ago that went something like, "The greatest lesson I've learned as a writer is that you can't control how others interpret your words." I try to repeat this to myself like a mantra, but I'm not sure I entirely believe it. It's true you can't control how others interpret your words, but relying on the reader to just "get it," is, I don't know, kind of lazy. It puts the onus on the reader and doesn't hold the writer accountable for her words. This is one of the hardest things to grasp transitioning from superfluous "fluff" writing to writing big, important things. I'm not writing big important things yet, but I'm getting there.

Opting Out, Dropping Out, and Why I'm Okay With a Little 101

Bear with me as I attempt to make two disparate points in one post.

K's comment on Garland Gray's post about the now-defunct Privilege Denying Dude meme really made me question why I tend to hang on the periphery of the feminist blogosphere. Of feminist tumblrs, especially, she says:

"In fact, I’m happy to accept photos of pizza and cats from the rest of tumblr with absolutely no complaints. I wonder if it is because feminism is so real, so close to the every day injustices that I experience or bear witness to, that I feel the need for it to somehow be “more.” Regardless, in many ways, it’s patently unfair of me to demand “more” of online feminist discourse as a whole when I so carefully delineate my own boundaries for engagement and often choose not to participate actively in feminist conversations on tumbler... Whether or not I like it, it is a privilege to walk away, a privilege to demand more, a privilege to say that I chose not engage in discussions of PDD or that I chose to unfollow someone without a word because I was unable to identify with their particular brand of feminism."

If having expectations, setting boundaries and choosing not to participate when those expectations are not met is a privilege -- well, there's one I haven't unpacked yet. That's another way privilege works: being unaware of those privileges is, in fact, a privilege. I always chalked up my own reluctance to participate as being not there yet. This is a big one. I keep waiting to find some magical "there" where everything I say cannot be proven wrong. This is also a privilege, deeply rooted in the fear of being "called out" or called upon to defend myself -- if I'm not smart enough or ready enough to engage in "big serious things," I have the option of opting out, and my life goes on as usual.

Regarding the original complaint that feminist bloggers should be beyond 101-level stuff, I'm willing to allow for people being at different places. If someone is willing to learn, I'm okay with a little 101. Yeah, it's frustrating when a thread gets a little derailed because someone doesn't know the meaning of "cisgender" or "kyriarchy," but I'd rather see online feminism accessible to all women, especially those who aren't in an academic setting or have access to the same books, than something overly pedantic and insular. I am that woman, and I still struggling with things that are supposed to be "common knowledge" within feminist circles.

Last summer, Pitchfork's Nitsuh Abebe wrote this about M.I.A., but I think it can be applied here, too:

"...Maya Arulpragasm (M.I.A.) is not a particularly sophisticated thinker... this may or may not be a bad thing. After all, people don't need to be 'sophisticated' to be right. People don't need to be nuanced or thoughtful to say something important. (Sometimes sophistication is a way of keeping people powerless -- ignoring anyone who doesn't speak your dimplomatic language.)" (Emphasis mine)

Scraps: Princess Play

"I really, really don't give a damn about the Kate Middleton/Prince William engagement and I really wish posts about it would stop writing, "the reason we are all excited about this is that we always wanted to be a princess."

No, you wanted to be a princess and you care about this."

Jezebel commenter Tchotchke

I can't ever remember a time in my life where I desired to be a princess. A witch, maybe. Rock star? Definitely. I know I wrapped a bunch of my mom's scarves around a broom and swung it around like Steve Tyler, and when cable finally came to out neighborhood, I really wanted to be an MTV veejay like Downtown Julie Brown. But princess wasn't even on my shortlist. The number of grown, successful women who profess a love for princess play as girls never ceases to amaze me, not because I think I'm better for having evaded it, but because the whole culture seems so alien to me.

My primary explanation for this is I was already in my teens during the start of the Disney princess empire. Being sixteen or seventeen when Ariel debuted, it was easy to dismiss it as "kid's stuff," but it goes deeper than that. Class and race are rarely taken into consideration. For a lot of girls, the princess phenomenon is off-limits. Yes, Disney made inroads with The Princess and the Frog, but their latest offering, Tangled, a remake of Rapunzul, takes more than a few steps back. (Read Renee's excellent take on on Tangled.) For a lot of girls -- even within the realm of unrealistic childhood dreams -- playing princess is out of reach.

The Maddow/Stewart Interview

I'm part of young(ish), liberal America that is Jon Stewart's bread and butter; however, I'm becoming less and less enchanted with the man, the show, and The Daily Show brand in general. And I agree with the "real media's" criticisms leveled at his Rally To Restore Sanity: if you're going to rally, rally about something (Maher), and not pretend that the left and the right are equal in terms of its radical fringe (pretty much everyone on MSNBC). In an hour-long interview on Rachel Maddow  Thursday night Jon Stewart answered some of those claims, and this exchange in particular highlighted a big part of the problem I've been having with The Daily Show lately. While he insists on hiding behind a curtain of satire, Jon Stewart is, for all practical purposes, a pundit. He is, in his words, in the game. It's disingenuous to deny that.

Related Reading:
Rachel Maddow's must-see Jon Stewart interview (Salon)
So, Jon Stewart Was on the Rachel Maddow Show (Shakesville)
Radical Hot Off Notes (Champagne Candy)

Scraps: Why I Am Still Doing NaNoWriMo

This is my fifth year participating in NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month. The premise is simple enough: write approximately 1600 words a day for the month of November, and by the end you'll have a finished novel. Now everyone knows that 50,000 words doesn't necessarily make a novel -- considering NaNoWriMo's frenetic pace, you'll be writing a lot of filler. There is the expectation that you will eventually edit your writing into a cohesive, readable story, but for those of us who have trouble motivating ourselves to put pen to paper (or fingertips to keyboard), forcing yourself to write isn't the worst idea. But not everyone is enthusiastic about writing " a lot of crap:"

"I am not the first person to point out that "writing a lot of crap" doesn't sound like a particularly fruitful way to spend an entire month, even if it is November. And from rumblings in the Twitterverse, it's clear that NaNoWriMo winners frequently ignore official advice about the importance of revision; editors and agents are already flinching in anticipation of the slapdash manuscripts they'll shortly receive. "Submitting novels in Nov or Dec?" tweeted one, "Leave NaNoWriMo out of the cover letter ... or make it clear that it was LAST year's NaNo." Another wrote, "Worst queries I ever received as an agent always started with 'I've just finished writing my NaNoWriMo novel and ...'"
Laura Miller for Salon.com

Here's another perspective from Words Fail Me:

"The crux of Miller’s argument seems centered on the how-to-write industry, not so much NaNoWriMo itself. And in many ways, I agree with Ms. Miller, though my conclusions are different. There is certainly a surfeit of books, blogs, forums, workshops, and self-appointed experts on writing out there, all trying to sell you the magic secret that will enable you to write the next great novel and win a six-figure publishing contract in your spare time on weekends. These resources offer untested, unproven, and often conflicting advice. They prey on people’s dreams, like the dream of becoming a published author."

Full disclosure: I am one of those former NaNo winners who have yet to edit a story, but to be honest, I don't completely disagree with Miller. NaNo is often a fruitless exercise in real creativity. But does it have to be? Can't the goal be the process itself? The first two times I did NaNo, I wrote so I'd have something to blog about. I am under no illusions that I'm a "real" writer, even though I've been paid "real" money in the past for my writing. I don't plan on having my NaNo novel published. I doubt the majority of NaNo'ers do.

By elitist, writerly standards, I am not someone who should be writing in the first place. I am a working-class woman whose childhood home was not lined with bookshelves. We had few books period unless you count my schoolbooks, an outdated set of encyclopedias, or the ones I brought home from the library. I wasn't read to, and I was an average student. I don't have an MFA or even a particularly large vocabulary. I am not clever. I put commas were commmas shouldn't be and can't spell for shit (neither could Flannery O'Connor, I should point out). I prefer non-fiction to fiction and am lucky to read more than a half-dozen novels each year, though I hear that's more than most people read. I'm not in love with the act of writing. Yet, all these things propel me toward it, and my instincts tell me I'm not alone. Most days I write because it's unavoidable, and shadow puppets or charades are a tad impractical for when it comes to blogging.

The primary reason I participate is one of NaNoWriMo's noblest: to turn off that pesky inner editor and get the words on paper. Anyone who's read my old blog knows that I moan and snivel my way through NaNo until the month is over and I earn a little banner for my website -- and a sense of accomplishment. Is my novel good? Hell, no. Is it even editable? Barely, though I did manage to carve a decent short story out of one. Maybe being a NaNoWriMo winner is a hollow victory, but for now it's one I'll take.

Scraps: Breaking Waves

I've been reading Rebecca Traister's excellent book about women voters and the 2008 presidential election, Big Girls Don't Cry. Much of the antipathy I felt towards the media, especially the home team -- the "good, liberal media" --- being a closet Clinton supporter was validated.

At the time, I was writing for a pretty big deal women's blog. Although I was a lowly entertainment reporter, and not one to get involved in any of the online shitstorms, I could sense the divide in the feminist blogosphere. As I edge closer to forty, I guess I'm on the elder end of third-wave feminism. A woman just graduating college is almost (biologically speaking, literally) young enough to be my daughter. She's coming into "her feminism." I can't speak for other women my age, but I think beginning to understand the rift between second and third wave feminism twenty years ago. This really hit home:

"What was often hard for older women to remember was that younger women creating a new feminist realm had not the same experiences they had, both in broad poetic post second wave terms and also purely in terms of age."

I see that happening now, too, in the feminist blogosphere, where it's easy to feel irrelevant and left out as each year the commentariat gets younger and younger and you're one of few over 35. I rarely comment these days anyway, and I have to keep reminding myself that it's the natural progression of things, and at twenty, I sure as hell didn't want to listen to a forty-year-old. (My mother will concur.) What I do isI worry that we're going to be as out-of-touch as we used to accuse the second-wavers, our mothers, of being.

Delusions of Gender

After reading several stellar reviews of Cordelia Fine's Delusion of Gender , I finally got my hands on the book. She debunks a lot of those tired old myths that women are bad at math and science, are hardwired for empathy, and have a predilection for everything pink and frilly. I highly recommend it for anyone interested in how we form our gender identity, and how much of that it is influenced by society (despite our best efforts at "gender neutral" parenting):

"As we've seen, children are born into a world in which gender is continually emphasized though conventions of dress, appearance, language, color segregation, and symbols. Everything around the child indicates that whether one is male or female is a matter of great importance... once children know their own sex, in theory they can start to take socialization into their own hands."

I know anecdotes don't equal evidence, but I grew up fairly sheltered, without a lot of pressure to conform to gender roles (this was the Free To Be You And Me seventies after all). Fine touches a little on other factors, such as race, class and ethnicity -- the pink equals girl, blue equals boy, girls are good at empathizing but bad at math stereotypes are overwhelmingly a westernized, especially middle-class, concept. Growing up in a working-class/lower income neighborhood, I never had the "princess fantasy." (I grew up in a time before Disney's princess factory, which figures heavily into the equation, too.) I didn't know any girl who engaged in princess play. To the contrary, I wasn't a hardcore tomboy either; I fell somewhere in between. I played with dolls, but I turned my Barbie Beauty Salon into a spaceship, I was an active kid, but didn't play organized sports. I'd like to say my parents did an exceptional job raising me, but there were other factors at work. And I think I'm pretty lucky I didn't get -- or didn't listen to -- some of those messages.

Scrap: Zines, Blogs and Privilege

"Participating in a girl zine culture requires that one have the leisure to create zines, a life generally uncluttered with the rudiments of survival, access to copy machines and other equipment, money for stamps and supplies, and enough self-esteem and encouragement to believe that one's thoughts are worth putting down for public consumption -- all marks of a certain level of privilege."

"Cut-and-Paste Revolution" by Jennifer Bleyer from The Fire This Time

I was well into my twenties before I knew what a "zine" was, and when I did, zines were the domain of boys who played in bands or worked at the small, community-owed radio station, one of my town's few enclaves of hip. The subculture of women punk rockers and activists had yet to make it to my working-class, Midwestern city. A while ago, I read a comment on another blog that said something like, "Zines were the great equalizer of the 90s." I don't think that's true at all. In fact, I think zines and the culture surrounding them caused more of a chasm between the privileged and the less privileged. The last part of that quote says it all: the timesuck of making a homegrown magazine, the expense of copying and mailing them out, the questioning whether you have something worthwhile to say at all... all marks of privilege. A lot of voices got lost in early 90s DIY culture, or weren't heard at all.

Nearly twenty years have passed, and blogs have taken over where zines have left off, but some of the same issues remain. There's no denying it's pretty easy to set up a blog: a number of blog hosts are free, and with prepackaged templates, no HTML is necessary. However, even in 2010, not everyone has internet access, nor the spare time required to maintain a blog. (Libraries have made access easier for those without a computer, but in many cases, those computers have to be booked in advance and depending on your local library, you're chances of getting one when you need it are hit or miss.)

Despite that, if would be naive to suggest that blogging hasn't given voice to a lot of women who've been silenced by traditional (or DIY) media, and for progressive feminists living in conservative parts of the country it's a blessing to find a community of like minded people. But like everything else, invariably some people are left out. Needless to say, I was a little put off by what Manifesta authors, Jennifer Baumgardner and Amy Richards, said about blogs and other forms of online activism:

"They were not particularly enthusiastic about it, all this Internet and social media stuff. Jennifer said she worried it was a weak substitute for real-life activism. Amy pointed out that it was often yet another form of unpaid work for women, and that many foundations and organizations were launching blogs because they thought they were supposed to, without really knowing what they were for. Debbie didn't really want to talk about her magazine vis a vis the Internet, but she did offer that Facebook was a girly form — "Like passing notes in class," she ad-libbed."

Of course, blogging is a lot of long hours, and mostly unpaid work. A number of women have parleyed their blogs into a source of income, but those are few and far between. As someone who's been blogging in some capacity for about five years, my biggest issue with blogging and its communities is the cliquishness and exclusion. A lot of voices still aren't being heard. Renee from Womanist Musings wrote a great post about the invisibility of women of color in parent blogging. Notably, one of the areas online where women have made significant inroads, and it's still mostly a white, straight, middle-class club. Blogs penned by women who aren't mothers, or blogs that don't fit into a nice, neat, little niche, get lost altogether.