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By jamie, March 26, 2011 11:43 pm

Last summer I had the opportunity to tour a golf course community in the Bahamas with Geek Boy’s parents. I have never played golf (unless mini-golf counts), but for the first time in my life I was able to see its appeal – the views were spectacular, and I could completely imagine at least walking that lovely course every day. It was also the most solid example of colonialism I have ever experienced: while the development has made some environmental “concessions” (using grass that can be maintained with sea water, not using fertilizer or pesticides, treating the sewage water for everyone on the island, etc.), there is a high gate dividing the property from the settlement (the town where the native Bahamians live) and no one is allowed to play golf there unless either own a home (extremely expensive) on the property or are guests of a homeowner. The only Bahamians we saw there were the workers (not the developer of course): one followed us around making sure my two year old daughter had enough juice and that our every need was provided for (we didn’t ask for anything), while another made our kiddo a huge peanut butter and jelly sandwich since nothing on the restaurant menu was age appropriate for her.

I was reminded of this day when I read about Barack Obama staying with his half-sister, Auma, during his first trip to Kenya (he took time off before starting Harvard Law to visit his father’s homeland) – he wanted to go on a safari and Auma tried to talk him out of it, noting that native residents could not afford to go on safari even though it was their land. I don’t care how often people argue that this kind of tourism is wonderful because it contributes to the local economy – it doesn’t feel right to me that natives of poor countries have to allow themselves to be exploited in this way in order to feed their families. The entire system is just messed up. (I read through page 366.)

Because this book is about race, Mr. Obama talks about how conflicted he feels knowing that many of his race must made do without the opportunities that he has had. He refers to it as “survivor’s guilt” – watching others of his race being poor and struggling when he got educated and “got out” of a lower social class situation. He also shares debates with his sister about the “racial caste system” that exists in poor communities in the U.S., in Kenya, and probably almost everywhere else – people of different races and ethnicities share the bottom of the barrel and discrimination is rampant between groups. No one wants to be at the bottom of the pecking order, so there is a great deal of in-fighting; this is a perfect situation for the wealthy, because they don’t have to worry about the different groups banning together to demand an improvement of their lot.

More on the “women’s prerogative” from the Cleapatra book – women often pay dearly when they change their minds, but this is not generally an adequate justification for remaining silent. One of Obama’s aunts struggled financially and couldn’t/wouldn’t keep a marriage because she didn’t want to be married to someone who turned out to be lazy or abusive. Women have so many reasons for swallowing down what is not best for them because they are afraid to lose. Sometimes it takes a very brave person to exercise that “woman’s prerogative.”

Here is just one quote from this section. When I read it I felt sick to my stomach because it describes exactly how we feel in this country:

I supposed it is not only the government’s fault,” he said after a while. “Even when things are done properly, we Kenyans don’t like to pay taxes. We don’t trust the idea of giving our money to someone. The poor man, he has good reason for this suspicion. But the big men who own the trucks that use the roads, they also refuse to pay their share. They would rather have their equipment break down all the time than give up some of their profits. This is how we like to think, you see, Somebody else’s problem.”
“Attitudes aren’t so different in America,” I told Francis.
“You are probably right,” he said, “But you see, a rich country like America can perhaps afford to be stupid.”

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By jamie,

While we were in California, my mom taught the Little Mama to say “that’s a woman’s prerogative” whenever she changes her mind about something. I thought it was kind of cute, but when I mentioned it at lunch today GB was offended – he said that it’s a sexist thing to say. Nana was being cute when she taught LM that phrase, but she also told our little girl (as she has told my sister and me since we were little girls) that her opinion is just as valuable as anyone else’s and not to be afraid to voice that opinion, or to change when she finds it necessary to do so.

Also, the first woman who ran for Vice President of the United States, Geraldine Ferraro, died today, and in tribute I had a sad conversation with a dear friend who remembers that run in 1984 – shockingly, my friend admitted that one of the greatest regrets of her life so far is that she gave her vote to Ronald Reagan instead of Mondale because she “didn’t think a woman had any business in the White House” – she has since reversed her opinion. Anyway, it was in this context that I re-read the introduction and first chapter of this wonderfully written book.

What have we heard about Cleopatra? That she was a “harlot” or a “temptress” perhaps. That she beguiled powerful men. That she was exceptionally beautiful. History does not look kindly on strong women (which is why it was so easy for another auther, Liz Curtis Higgs to fill several volumes on “Bad Girls of the Bible”) -powerful women have a reputation for tricking men into getting them pregnant, selling themselves for all sorts of things, distracting armies, and all sorts of other unsavory behaviors.

So, this temptress, Cleopatra – she spoke nine languages. She was the first of her long line of royal blood to learn the “languages of the people” and this enabled her to build a powerful army which she led directly. She was highly educated and was a brilliant orator. In the first chapter we find her in a battle with her brother’s army in trying to find favor with Caesar, the most powerful man at the time. She devised a plan to sneak unnoticed into his house (which was rightfully her house) in a large sack. Once there, she had to figure out how to keep her head (people were very quick to behead or in other ways slaughter powerful people at that time – this book really is disturbing so far on that front). I read the sack arrival part aloud to the Little Mama last month when I first attempted this book, and she has since asked me to read her the “Cleopatra in the bag” story” again. She was so intrigued by that tidbit, but I think the book is a little adult for her, and I doubt I will have any luck finding a comparable option written for children, so she might have to wait awhile for more.

According to Schiff, women in Egypt during Cleopatra’s time were given all sorts of resources and opportunities. They could even be doctors and mathematicians. “This did not mean that such women were above suspicion. As always, an educated woman was a dangerous woman.” Their male counterparts are likely labeled intelligent, cunning, or brilliant strategists.

Even today, smart women are not trusted. That “woman’s prerogative” saying? People have reduced it to mean that women are tricky and incapable of being trusted instead of applying it to the notion that women do not have to settle into a bad situation – they can change their minds and walk away, and the opinion of a man is not more valuable than theirs.

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By jamie, May 14, 2010 11:55 pm

My weight has fluctuated for much of my life. Basically, as long as I work hard and exercise A LOT, I’m okay. Once I break that routine, I have to work extra hard to catch up. If I stop exercising for too long, I run the risk of becoming wider than I am tall (which has never happened, thankfully, but I’m fairly short, so the possibility worries me during my darkest couch potato moments). I remember one time back in the ninth grade when I decided that maybe I should devote myself to doing well in P.E., at least the running part, in order to help keep my weight down. My friends, who were all thin and cute, used to walk our daily mile, even though they were all capable of running it, so that they could chat for twenty minutes before being subjected to team sports. This was fine with me, since I could not run a full mile, but one day I decided to try. Well, my dearest friend at the time commanded me to stop jogging and walk with her, but I was determined, so I kept on going. That is, until my friend issued the awful words, “watch the flab fly!” That did it. I was about 20 pounds overweight at the time, and very self conscious, and I allowed these words to stop me in my tracks. I never tried again to run the mile in P.E. class, and the girl and I remained friends. But I have not forgotten the words she used to control me that day.

The last two chapters are the “money” chapters, the ones you should read if you don’t have time for the entire book. One is about succeeding in the workplace as a woman, both as a new employee and as the boss. The other is about being a strong woman in general, and how other people, women in particular, try to bring us down with horrible words and labels.

Obviously, we should work hard, regardless of what field we decide to enter. I think this advice even applies to women who do not work for pay, particularly if we are providing a model for our children to follow. We should never go into work with an undeserved sense of entitlement – this means we do the unglamorous jobs too, without considering them beneath us, as we are working our way up the ladder. I worry about children getting that sense of entitlement from watching their parents outsource jobs that they consider beneath them – I am mostly talking about housework – we broke down and hired a housekeeper when I was on bed rest with pneumonia and swine flu last fall, and she still comes to clean our house twice a month. I feel conflicted about it – on the one hand, I know we are helping a young female entrepreneur pay her mortgage. At the same time, I also fear that it makes me lazy about doing menial labor – when it all comes down to it, we SHOULD clean our own toilets and mop our own floors, and our children should watch us and help us when when they are old enough.

When I was reading the final chapter of the book, so many stories kept popping into my head, of women being controlled by labels we are given. I have had those words lodged at me, and some of you probably have too – you know which ones they are without me spelling them out. When my girl asserts herself, I feel so proud of her, particularly because I have allowed myself to be controlled too many times. Sometimes I look at her when she is refusing to be controlled by someone (sometimes that someone is me) and think, “You tell ‘em, Little Sister!” I have even said this to her a couple of times, but I think it may confuse her, me calling her “sister” when I’m her mother. I’m not talking about when she is having a tantrum and trying to get an extra cookie or something trivial, but when she wants to make her voice heard and we are not understanding her or respecting that her opinion matters very much, even though she is only two.

Destructive messaging for chicks is everywhere. It starts with Disney and continues right on up to Sex and the City, which, in my opinion, ruined New York women; ther’s nothing more depressing than seeing four supposedly liberated girlfriends tromping down the street in thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes looking like they just spent three hours getting ready to go out and meet men.

Thanks, Kelly Cutrone. You’ve given me a lot to think about.

Other posts about If You Have to Cry, Go Outside:

Post 1: If You Have to Cry, Go Outside, by Kelly Cutrone
Post 2: Fake It Until You Make It
Post 3: The Day I Spoke to Dolphins
Post 4: Birth Story
Post 5: You Tell ‘Em, Little Sister

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By jamie, May 12, 2010 11:07 am

When Barack Obama gave the keynote speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention, With tears in my eyes, I predicted aloud that this man would be President someday. Rereading those words today, with tears in my eyes, I still feel hope.

This book is about the events leading up the the most recent U.S. presidential election, moving back and forth between the offices of the various people involved. So far, this book is not a typical political analysis, or a giant op-ed piece. In fact, it reads like fiction (I have read through Chapter 4), in that it tells the story in third person, as a story instead of a news article, usually with am omniscient voice – we hear what all of the key players are thinking, without being told whether these insights came to the authors through interviews or if they are merely guessing. For example, when Hillary Clinton is deciding whether to run for president in 2004, she gathers her inner circle together and decides not to enter the race because her daughter has objections to the idea. Later, when she does decide to run in 2008, we are privy to the inner thoughts of Bill Clinton, who alone has private concerns that Barack Obama might change his mind and enter the race.

Hillary Clinton is depicted as a hard person, a career politician who only makes decisions based on the potential to increase her status and position; she is also shown to as deadly when she has been wounded or embarrassed. Barack Obama is confident to the point of being cocky, and yet he does not make a decision without the support of his wife – her opinion matters to him more than that of anyone else. We haven’t heard too much about the members of the opposing team, other than that no one seems to like George W. Bush.

By the end of Chapter 4, Barack and Hillary are both in the race, and are amassing friends and resources to help them win. It was entertaining to read the process each one uses to decide how to proceed. I don’t know how this book was researched, but the authors have obviously taken some creative license – I will not be convinced that they had the willing cooperation of every single person involved in both campaigns, which would have been necessary to arrive at this amount of detail. So, while I know that there is probably some truth in this book, I am not going to form any political opinions based on what I read. I’ll consider it a work of historical fiction, and reserve the right to change my mind as I read on.

Which brings me to a point I would like to make: When a person in power changes her mind, it does not necessarily make her a “flip-flopper,” it might mean that she continually analyzes her course based on new and relevant information – in other words, it might mean that she is an effective leader.

Also, it takes a certain level of arrogance to want to be the president of a super-power. It annoys me that Hillary Clinton (and other women, but she is the only one who has gotten close to achieving the U.S. presidency) is depicted as a b***h because she is a strong woman. Some say that women do not have the personality necessary to lead this country – I think that’s because we punish women who DO have it, and we try to socialize it out of our daughters.

Here is a sample of President Obama’s speech, given six years ago. Come on, President Obama – I still have faith in you:

People don’t expect government to solve all their problems. But they sense, deep in their bones, that with just a slight change in priorities, we can make sure that every child in America has a decent shot at life and that the doors of opportunity remain open to all. They know we can do better. And they want that choice…. It is that fundamental belief — it is that fundamental belief — I am my brother’s keeper, I am my sisters’ keeper — that makes this country work. It’s what allows us to pursue our individual dreams, yet still come together as a single American family: “E pluribus unum,” out of many, one….

Do we participate in a politics of cynicism, or do we participate in a politics of hope?…I’m not talking about blind optimism here, the almost willful ignorance that thinks unemployment will go away if we just don’t think about it, or health care crisis will solve itself if we just ignore it.

That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about something more substantial. It’s the hope of slaves sitting around a fire singing freedom songs; the hope of immigrants setting out for distant shores; the hope of a young naval lieutenant bravely patrolling the Mekong Delta; the hope of a millworker’s son who dares to defy the odds; the hope of a skinny kid with a funny name who believes that America has a place for him, too. Hope in the face of difficulty, hope in the face of uncertainty, the audacity of hope: In the end, that is God’s greatest gift to us, the bedrock of this nation, a belief in things not seen, a belief that there are better days ahead.

Other posts about Game Change:

Post 1: Game Change, by John Heilemann and Mark Halperin
Post 2: Political Games and Gridlock
Post 3: Game Change, Indeed
Post 4: Religion and Sex – That’s Politics