With this playlist, I just wanted comfort and to work through the tangles of relationships. I wanted to explore the complexities of love in individual relationships and in networks of relationships. All of the depth–or maybe the lack thereof–in the joy, the frustration, the passion, the calm, the tears. This playlist rests on the simultaneity of our love and our connection.
Halloween was this Friday (as if you didn’t already know that– I know, I’m still recovering from my candy coma, too) and I’ve been doing a lot of self reflection on the past year. Most people do their reflecting in January at the start of the new year, but Halloween is my “new year.” I started my medical transition on October 31, 2013, so as Friday rolled around I began thinking about all the things that have happened and who I’ve become since last Halloween.
I am so much happier than I was 18 months ago. I have a group of very dear friends who care about me. I have made my own family and my own home here in Baltimore, and my family’s house back in Frostburg feels much more welcoming. I feel joy again. I’m doing well in school. I feel validated in my work and I feel like I have the ability to make change not just at UMBC, but in the larger community.
If you had told me all of this before I went on testosterone, I would have said, “Wow! It’s amazing all the things testosterone can do for me!” Now, I’ve realized that the testosterone had nothing to do with it. It wasn’t some magical elixir like a Felix Felicis potion. It didn’t fix something that was broken. It didn’t give me friends or make people like me more. All of that was me. I did that.
It’s amazing the things you can discover about who you are and what you’re capable of once you stop putting all your energy into hating yourself. Being on testosterone didn’t make me hate myself less– just like losing 20 pounds isn’t going to make your body image issues go away. It removed the thing I was using as an excuse for hating myself. It’s easy to say, “I’ll love myself once I’m on testosterone,” but I realized that self love doesn’t come in a 10mL vial. You can’t diet your way to self love, either. You have to work towards it and it’s hard, but it’s totally worth it.
What I’ve learned in the past twelve months is that I am worthy of my love unconditionally and let me tell you, that Halloween candy tastes so much sweeter now.
A collaborative authorship post from Bria Hamlet and Jess Myers
You guessed it! It’s that time of the year when the Women’s Center staff crushes your Halloween costume dreams and makes you feel guilty about your costume decisions. Sexist! Racist! Cultural appropriation! We know, we’re just no fun… but someone’s gotta do it.
But in all seriousness, this is an important conversation…. one that I wish I would have had with thoughtful intersectional feminists back in my growing up days. I didn’t know what cultural appropriation was in 3rd grade… or if I’m being honest, in college. Halloween costumes I regret include dressing as a Harem Girl and a nagging wife (ugh, just writing those words breaks my women’s center director heart) among others. I feel guilty about these choices and up until now, I’ve done my best to keep these secrets to myself but somewhere along the way these memories have been shared with Women’s Center staff members and together we’ve walked down memory lane of costumes of Halloween past. We’ve used these conversations as an opportunity for us to hold up the mirror for ourselves and others. We are not exempt from histories of making harmful choices in our Halloween gear. By allowing ourselves to look into the mirror of racism, sexism, and cultural appropriation, we hope to diffuse the guilt and defensive that often comes from having these conversations related to Halloween costumes of choice so we can all dig a bit deeper into that critical thought and dialogue.
Plus… what better way to share some of our childhood photos from Halloweens of the 1980s and 90s!
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I was an angel, a princess, and a pink Power Ranger in pursuit of candy. Queen Amidala and Mulan searched for the most haunting home decor while Cleopatra and Tinkerbell prepared for horror movie marathons with friends. It all started out so harmless.
I have never taken the time to reflect on how the intent of celebrating Halloween changes from childhood to adulthood. Historically, All Hallows’ Eve has been about terrifying confrontations with the dead, but these days I have been aghast at the overpriced sexism on Party City’s walls. For just $49.99, you can please the patriarchy and unleash your inner sexist all in one night!
Halloween has become a night for adults to indulge in repressed fantasies through costume. I am cringing as I recall the year I decided to costume as Playboy Bunny (before I could even legally be one). I now believe that if this industry wasn’t so hellbent on supplying women with only “sexy” options for Halloween, then women everywhere could proudly say they wanted to dress like that, not that they were left optionless. It’s bad enough that women are oversexualized everyday, and this ‘tradition’ reinforces the idea that any effort put into appearing sexy is to please men. And thus, we welcome you to the Sexy Halloween Costume Industry!
I chose my own costumes and wore them happily. My only regret is the lack of thought I put into the message I sent to the rest of the world. While I hoped my sexy schoolgirl costume screamed “I am poking fun at my all-girl secondary education and embracing my sexuality all at one time!,” I know that was not the case. Truly feminist costumes should leave you feeling respected, empowered, and happy. Although I am still struggling to settle on a costume idea, I am pleased to have the awesome resources below for some feminist costuming inspiration! Check them out!
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What is cultural appropriation?
Get your Activism On!
Oh hey RAs! A Halloween Bulletin Board at your finger tips!
Often when we talk about race in the United States, the classic picture is that race is polarized into two: black and white. Starting from a very young age, I had never truly understood these divisions, and felt confused as to where I fit in. If I was labeled into a color, it was always “yellow” and it was often said as an offensive joke. I didn’t understand my place…I wasn’t white and I wasn’t black. I remember looking around the demographics of my classrooms noticing that I often felt alone. In history class, we talked about Columbus, the slave trade, and 9/11, but rarely did we ever engage in dialogues about asians, much less Koreans, except in passing when we note that North Korea is still radically separate from its southern counterpart, and the fact that the United States fought in the Korean War. I remembered a clear moment in my U.S history class when we discussed apartheid in the United States, and I sat in the room wondering which restroom and school, if any, would I have been able to use and attend if we were still in that time? Was I a person of color?
The ever familiar sense of liminality and not quite fitting in was also manifested in my college life through my labeled identity as an “ undocumented” student, or from opposing side’s terms, an undocumented alien. Already, I had felt a sense of confusion growing up all my life in a country where I didn’t always find people who looked like me or understood me or my background. My identity as a Korean-American was treated as a novelty, an exquisite chance for somebody to stumble through the two or three Korean words and Korean people they knew, as well as informing me how much they loved Korean food. Of course, many of these statements were harmless and were not meant to create the sense of separation and isolation that often came as a consequence. Statements like, “So, where are you originally from?” have been scattered throughout my life, and I felt a sense of guilt or confusion as I always explained (much more thoroughly than someone expected) how I lived in Maryland most of my life, lived in Washington State for when I was young, and oh, yes, if this is what you were really asking- my family is from Korea and I was born there.
Overall, I am still exploring my multiple identities and it has been quite a journey. Through my work at the Women’s Center and beyond, where I am surrounded by people who are ready and willing to engage in thoughtful and critical dialogues, I am inspired and gradually feeling that I am worthy and do belong in this space equally.
A really awesome and affirming article from Time, brought a lot of my insecurities and feelings to light, explaining that, this idea that Asian Americans are “tech” oriented and know how to sit in front of a computer, overlooks the disproportionate amount of Asian American tech workers and those in leadership. In addition, “What it says is this: Asians and Asian-Americans are smart and successful, so hiring or promoting them does not count as encouraging diversity. It says: there is no such thing as underrepresentation of Asians and Asian-Americans. The problem with this belief, historians and advocates assert, is that it not only obscures the sheer range of experiences within Asian and Asian-American populations, but also excludes them from conversations about diversity and inclusion in leadership and non-tech sectors.” This statement rang true in so many aspects as I have had students and faculty alike, assume me to be in a STEM field or that I would be “good at math”, etc. I look forward to bringing to light these cultural stereotypes, assumptions, as well as working to break them, to work to have representation of Asian Americans as the diverse and whole people that we, and everyone else, are.
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and I had my first mammogram today. I am still in the waiting room as I write these thoughts into the notepad of my iPhone. Despite the very hopeful notion I have that everything will be okay, I also have the overwhelming feeling of wanting to cry. All the Octobers of pink and more pink have created a sense within me that the question of breast cancer for me as a woman is not an if but when. Somewhat like the rape schedule most women live with on a daily basis I’ve realized through this process of doctor’s visits and tests that I operate in a sort of breast cancer schedule as well. The inevitability feels all too real.
Watching shows like L Word and Parenthood with main characters who were diagnosed with breast cancer always sends me into overwhelming sadness as I delve into their plot lines. I cry. I cry for the fictional characters but I also cry in fear. That could be me. My partner. My best friend. It has already been my aunt. My cousin. Co-workers. Friends of friends. I have created a chosen family for myself completely centered in women and womanhood. As I grow older, I know this list will only grow.
And, as I sit in this waiting room for my results I question if my fear is warranted. Or is just the onslaught of October Pink that has conditioned me to believe this is a real reality for me? Am I too hyper-vigilant? Is this real or just another social construction that inhabits within me due to my gender and gender socialization? Did all the Race For The Cures and pink ribbons and Denim Days of my childhood not only create an awareness but a deeply rooted fear?
I debate about posting these very personal thoughts on what for all extensive purposes is my work blog. Part of me feels these are not thoughts appropriate to share around the “water cooler” but thoughts meant to keep private or share only with close confidants. But my “water cooler,” my work – it is my passion. My work is the work rooted in these fears, these social constructions, these lived experiences of women. If I can’t or don’t talk about it as a professional who works in a women’s center, who believes in consciousness raising and “the personal is political,” who else will? Women’s centers and their community members exists to center these conversations, make space for inquiry, and give comfort for the fear. I share my thoughts to create brave spaces for us to critique the “pink industrial complex” while also validating the very real experiences of those living with breast cancer, those surviving breast cancer, those who have died from it, and those who wonder if it will happen to them.
In the waiting room, I got the answer I needed. I am fine and I can breathe a sigh of relieve… at least for now. And, yet I leave feeling I still have more questions than answers.
With much discussion in Women’s Center staff meetings about actively applying our work in the Center as student staff members to other areas of our lives, I have recently been thinking a lot about how my experiences and education in social justice and activism coincide with the various roles and responsibilities I hold outside of the Center. Currently in the process of working towards receiving teacher certification in elementary education, one of my most valued roles this academic year is my internship as a student teacher in a fourth grade classroom. Watching my students embrace new concepts and grow as individuals each week has not only brought an immense amount of pleasure and fulfillment into my life, but it has also caused me to think rather critically about how learning in the classroom translates outside to the “real world”. I’m not talking about how that math equation we learned last week can help us to calculate a tip on a restaurant bill, or how that new vocabulary word can be used to impress our relatives, but instead about how simple classroom dynamics can set a pretty important example for those of us who are long removed from our own elementary school classrooms.
Although we live in a society that preaches equality and fairness, perhaps one of the most important concepts I have learned in the classroom thus far is that equality and fairness are far from interchangeable terms. Imagine a classroom where students are instructed to independently read a chapter out of a textbook and take notes on what they are reading. Several students are reading quietly to themselves and taking notes on a sheet of paper, while another student is listening to an audiobook through headphones, and yet another student is talking to a classroom volunteer who is writing notes down for the student. If this were an equal environment, all students would be required to complete the assignment in the exact same way. But is equality in this situation really fair? Without certain accommodations, students with learning disabilities or special needs may be unable to complete the assignment on their own. The truth is, equality is only fair when everyone is the exact same to begin with. This is an extremely unlikely situation not only in the classroom, but in life in general. Instead of promoting fairness amongst individuals within a community, in actuality equality erases differences that exist within a group of individuals and only supports those with the most privilege. Equality is a “colorblind” approach to fairness and it can be especially harmful when it prevents students from lower income families and those who struggle with disabilities from obtaining the resources they need to succeed.
Because not all students (or people, for that matter) are born with the same abilities and some experience challenges that inhibit that their success, some individuals need more resources in order to just catch up to their peers. Therefore instead of talking about equality, we need to focus on another approach: equity. While equality simply seeks to level the playing field for everyone, equity seeks to provide more resources to those who need them. Take for example the large population of English Language Learners (ELLs) attending schools today. These students are often significantly behind their native-English speaking peers- not because they are unintelligent, but because they lack an upbringing that enables them to understand the language in which they are being taught. Therefore, these ELL students need more resources (perhaps in the form of ESOL classes or classroom accommodations) simply just to survive in the school system. Equity forces us to examine various privileges that exist within a community or a society and prompts us to make certain accommodations that will assist those with a lack of privilege. Instead of seeing just one route to success, equity forces us to pave multiple roads for multiple people. It isn’t an easy process by any means, but the extra work we put into through society through creating equitable situations brings us closer to fairness than equality ever will.
UMBC Women Who Rock is a new blog series I’m working on throughout the 2014-15 academic year. In my role as Women’s Center director, I have some of the best opportunities to become acquainted with some of UMBC’s best and brightest women on campus. I admire the ways they live authentic lives unapologetically that challenge the stereotypes and assumptions that are often assigned to women. By debunking these stereotypes and forcing us to check our assumptions, they allow us to expand our notion of what a woman is and can be.
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UMBC Women Who Rock!
Susan Dumont, Office of Student Life’s Coordinator for Fraternities & Sororities
Goodness, if the semester was a Half Ironman, I’d be somewhere out there on my bike, at some mile marker that makes the finish line still feel very far away. I’ve been working on the concept for the post since mid-September and here I am, a month later, re-opening this document trying to get to the finish line. Susan Dumont’s voice is here with me though, repeating the refrain that I heard her say often before she completed her first Half Ironman this summer: “I like doing things that I don’t know I’ll be successful in. I want to find out what’s really possible.” This blog post certainly isn’t my Half Iron(wo)man but I’ve appreciated the motivation nonetheless.
This feeling of having someone else’s goals and work ethic inspire and complement my own instead of perceiving them as a direct threat or source of competition feels really different for me. Maybe because Susan and I both hail from all-girl high schools, my mind has drifted back to my high school days many times while working on this blog post. The smartest girls were also the most athletic girls. They were also the most popular girls. But in my experience, the cool girls knew they were cool and that cool factor usually made them pretty mean.
Cue Mean Girls and Queen Bees. They made sure you knew they got the highest grade in the class and when you were still struggling on that math problem they rolled their eyes at the impossibility of why you just didn’t get it. This “us versus them” climate made the first few years of high school pretty miserable and at times, I still feel anxious just thinking about running into them again one day. I know somehow, they’ll take me back to those high school days where I never felt good enough.
When I mentioned this to Susan, I thought she would affirm my experience with similar stories of the all-girls school mean girl. She couldn’t, though. She went on to share how her high school experience developed her self-concept and provided empowering experiences for her. She went on to share about her time at Lake Forest College which was greatly impacted by her involvement in Greek Life. Not only was she in a sorority but Susan was instrumental in starting the first nationally affiliated chapter on her campus. She feels proud about creating a legacy that has shaped the sorority community at Lake Forest to have healthy national organizations. Susan began her adventures with triathlons in grad school. This is when she first connected with professional triathlete Linsey Corbin who along the way has modeled a philosophy for Susan to build the life you want and to bring good, healthy, challenging people along with you. Now that’s a counter narrative of the mean girl!
Currently, Susan is in her second year of Law School at University of Maryland, Baltimore. All of last year, I would follow her Facebook posts and chat randomly with her about how busy she must be as full-time staff member at UMBC, law student by night, and triathlete in her “free” time. I looked on from a distance with awe about how she was doing what I thought was impossible. Then over the summer, we found ourselves reflecting on the law class every graduate student in a Student Affairs program has to take. It was one of our favorite classes which is often not the case for most student affairs professionals. After our conversation, the idea of going to law school got into my head. I wanted to learn more and explore the possibility. I made a mental note to follow up with Susan about it. I never got to send that email, though. Instead, a few days later, there in my inbox was an email from Susan inviting me to one of her law classes in the fall. Without that email, I don’t think I would have picked up that LSAT study guide or visited that civil procedures class or logged onto the UMB’s law school website and signed up for an admissions day visit.
At this point in popular culture, almost all of us have heard about Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In. I’ll be honest and say, I only got through parts of the book, but my take away is similar to my experience in high school: lean in at the expense of other women and fight for those few coveted positions at the top. To counteract this idea, I spend a lot of time thinking about how women can lean over for each other and themselves. How can we change the culture in a way that we’re all benefiting and moving forward rather than just a few of us racing to the top?
Susan exemplifies ways in which we can all lean over for each other. Susan never confirmed my doubts that I wouldn’t be able to handle law school. Rather she pulled me aside invited me to lunch and said you can do it too. She’s challenged the way I’ve been socialized to expect that other women are going to treat me crappy, gossip about me, or make sure I know that I won’t ever be able to great as them. She leaned over and assured me that making space for me to pursue my own talents and create my own dreams, wouldn’t diminish her own. Susan encouraged me to set needs new heights for myself and that’s why she is one of UMBC’s Women Who Rock!
Who are the UMBC women in your life that inspire you to think outside your expectations and assumptions? What are the counter narrative stories they’re sharing with us allowing UMBC and our greater community to be more of exactly who we want to be? Comment below and maybe you’ll just find them featured in a future UMBC Women Who Rock post.
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Check out other UMBC Women Who Rock:
Amanda Knapp (featured August 2014)