End of semester thoughts

Seeing so many facebook statuses about scrambling to finish end of semester papers, I'm feeling incredibly grateful to only be auditing a course this semester.  Not having papers to finish is quite a relief, though one slightly offset by having two sections of papers to grade.  I just finished reading rough drafts, and it was a bit exhausting.  My student papers really are all over the place--I have some really polished, well-argued, well-researched papers, some that show promise, and some that are half the required length which don't seem to be arguing anything.  I'm trying to keep my focus on the fact that I do see an overall trend of improvement in most of my students.

I'm also proud of the fact that at least a couple of my students went into their research with opinions which changed over the course of their research.  In all of my teaching, my greatest feelings of pride are in those students who have changed their mind doing research.  In fact, while I was at the Unite Women rally yesterday, I reflected on the fact that I really feel that the most useful activism I am engaged in is teaching.  If I can teach students to identity argument fallacies and to keep an open mind while researching an issue, I think that's much more effective than waving a sign around.

Still, I went to the rally yesterday and held a sign and worked the Clothesline Project table.  (And no, I did not "woman" it.  I have such a negative response to the word "woman" as a verb.)  My cynicism continued, though I do feel a bit hopeful about the idea of starting a serious campaign to revitalize the ERA.  (Once again, I feel like teaching is the most effective means of activism for me--on my Intro WGS exam, students had to identify the text of the ERA--and once students learned the actual text of the ERA--it doesn't say anything about bathrooms!--they were generally in support of it.)  And working the table a couple of times now, I do think that it does raise awareness of domestic violence--but I would still like to have a conversation about clarifying how it works, because it also at times flirts with flippancy, or has the potential to make participants uncomfortable if asked to talk about their participation. 

In terms of feminist activism, I'd prefer to get away from the kinds of activism which seem to be reinforcing binary gender stereotypes, and instead has the potential for more measurable efficacy.  Voter registration, for example.  I do realize, though, that these more confessional, interactive events are in fact meaningful for many--as is probably apparent, I'm feeling rather conflicted about it.  I want to say that I hope others will continue to work on these projects as long as people find meaning in them, and that I wish to focus my energies on projects which I find meaningful. 

The War Against Women

I'm thinking about John Scalzi's "Going Meta for a Moment" blog post, explaining the reasons why he wrote his brilliant "Being Poor" essay.  In "Going Meta," he explained that he was so pissed off by the asshattish response to Hurricane Katrina that he was unable to work--and this is how I feel this evening, having apparently reached critical mass of reading one after another right-wing attack on reproductive autonomy, and now this story about the bombing of a Texas State Senator's office. 

I have lost patience with having respect for other people's positions.  Are you against abortions?  Fine, don't have one.  Better yet, work to increase access to contraception and comprehensive sex education.  Or, at the very least, learn how conception and contraception actually works before proposing legislation requiring non-consensual, invasive vaginal procedures (which, by the way, anyone can construe as anything other than rape--well, they're wrong).  It is impossible to deny that there is a systematic attack on women's autonomy in this country at the moment. Again, if people were actually so darned concerned about the welfare of children in this country, they would be doing things like increasing--or at the very least, not decreasing--funding for education.  Improving Medicaid.  Things which actually impact children's lives--rather than threaten and shame women for being autonomous adults.

No one is seriously questioning men's rights too--well, anything, other than control over women's bodies and lives. No one is questioning Viagra access, or funding, or insurance coverage, or access to vasectomies, or working on holding men more accountable for paternity.  Like I said, no one is even bothering to learn how menstruation and contraceptive medication actually works.  And any woman who questions this is overreacting at best and a slut, harpy, and premenstrual bitch at worst.

I've lost my patience for being open-minded--and the primary reason is because I feel threatened.  It's not just a question of moral debate--rather, it's a question of the real possibilities of invasive procedures, public shaming, and condescending lectures from men who are opposed to female autonomy.  Even more, the continuing violent rhetoric of the right constitutes a real threat to me.  I went to the church in Knoxville where people died as a result of a shooter who was determined to take out liberals.  The Planned Parenthood I used to go to in Cincinnati has been the recipient of numerous attempted attacks.  It's not just a couple of nutjobs on AM radio--the rhetoric of the right encourages violence against people like me--female, feminist, liberal, and intellectual. 

Certainly, I plan on being at the March Against the War on Women on April 28.  But right now, I'm feeling quite cynical about its potential.  I went to DC in 2004 for the March for Women's Lives, and while it was an enjoyable experience of solidarity, I can't honestly say that it did anything lasting.  I'm beginning to suspect that political protests only serve as pressure valves to keep people from actually accomplishing anything.  We'll go spend the day yelling and waving signs and feeling like we're not alone, and the Monday there will be another bill proposed somewhere that requires a husband's permission before a woman can buy condoms.