Week Ten: Privilege, Race-as-a-Construct, and Real Estate Value- Oh My!

This week I also wrote my essay; I happened to select sexuality, as I had this tangent planned about what it means to be female, white, and heterosexual- what kind of boxes that puts you in, what social norms you'd better adhere to, and what privilege my primarily 'normal' status imparts upon me. The essay ended up going somewhere else entirely, and I'm really nervous about it fitting the bounds of the assignment, but it is thesis driven, even if it has some elements of personal details- but that is neither here nor there.

The back and forth tension I'm seeing on the issue of race in this chapter is fascinating- between the for Klan member vouching for 'white equality' (what...) and the one-step-forward-one-step-back and forth back and forth that never quite seems to balance out, and only makes racism a more pervasive part of society...

In my paper, I brought up that to me, homosexuality was invisible- and thus never became something that I considered or thought about as a child and young adult. The last bit that I wrote- about how if they didn't exist in a productive society that I could see, then if I was one I wouldn't exist either?

I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to feel that way about something so shallow as my skin tone.

My boyfriend reads comic books, and I've started flicking through them, noticing trends we've talked about in this class. As I do so, I can see it- this pervasive sense of invisibility, the non-personhood of people who aren't white.

I used to think that things were really pretty equal- there was a civil right's movement, and Martin Luther King day, right? Black people are people just like me, no big deal.

But the fact is, growing up? I was never in the same class as a black person. There were some latinos. My class had two immigrants, once. Even though we lived near the poor part of town- walking to school I'd be walking through what were called the 'Projects', government housing- I experienced very little cultural diversity aside from exchange students in my own home. Hell, none of the places I lived really had anything other than white people and latinos.

What's up with that anyway.

Week Nine: Skin deep

Looking back, it seems hard to believe that something so insidious as race is one that I've been totally unaware of as a -construct- and not a simple reality. Even at the beginning of the course, I knew that race was real- of course it was.

I can see now that our culture has a strange obsession with it, one that's been used to justify social stratospheres in which the dominant racial archetype is the one on top.

Week 8: Sexy is as sexy does

Marxist feminism has a point, even if it's rather extreme.

Sexuality is so heavily socially regulated and mandated, that to even be feminine is to be less as a man- and therefor less as a person. Unless you're a woman, because GOD FORBID women should be anything but stepping stones and objects to be used. A masculine woman is a bitch and a butch and needs a good deep dicking, CLEARLY.

Grumbly feminism rant ended.

Wait, no not quite.

One time, at one of my old (male dominated) jobs in which I was a tech support agent, I decided to put some care into my appearance for a day, just because I wanted to. I put on makeup so thick that it was noticeable; I felt like I was wearing a mask, and when I looked in the mirror, a stranger peered back at me.

It was strange and uncomfortable, but my female coworker, who was incredibly appearance oriented, assured me I looked like a million dollars.

And then, as I went through my day... I began to notice the appraising looks. The small nods of approval, the friendlier demeanors.

So wait... I have to be fake to be liked? Hygiene, I understand. Dressing flatteringly, fine- that makes sense. But piling on makeup so far as to be unrecognizeable except as something once seen in a photoshopped image in a magazine-? Spending half an hour just to garner a friendly face?

Welcome to being a straight woman in today's society.

There are many who won't look at you like a package of meat with a pretty ribbon; but there are more who will, in my experience.

Most of the time, it's easier to be alone... IE antisocial, weird, a prude, add your own negative label here just for fun.

Week 6: Bootstraps or Bootlick?

Horatio Alger, contemporary author of Rags-to-Riches books which ended up shaping the story we tell ourselves about the American meritocracy, was not a rags-to-riches case himself.

His father was a Unitarian minister, and he was ultimately well off enough to attend Harvard university at the age of sixteen.

It is my opinion that those at the top of the social stratosphere like to tell this mythology over and over again; and it's a pretty myth. It gives those at the bottom hope. It makes those in the middle believe they can rise, if only they just work hard enough- and it means those at the top must have done something to deserve their status.

However, statistics will show with pain-staking clarity that this idea of meritocracy is nothing but a myth- when viewing IQ versus annual income, the results were all over the chart, without demonstrable indication that a higher IQ yields more profit. IQ is only one of the many ways in which we can measure merit- but one thing that has nothing to do with merit is who your parents are, and who you were -born- to.

It is possible to climb the social ladder, but again, statistics show the incredibly high probability that where you're born is where you're die, economically.

Meritocracy is a lie perpetuated by the benefactors of the belief system and supported by those who wish it were true.