A friend and I were making final decisions about the various clothing items we had collected when I recognized the musical strains floating through the deserted store as a song I had recently become enamored with (White Sky by Vampire Weekend). After exclaiming to my companion about the awesomeness of the song, we proceeded to the check out stand where the obviously bored clerk seemed excited by the prospect of interacting! With real humans!
Apparently, Wednesday morning is not a busy time for the retail world.
She was pretty talkative and commented at one point on how weird the store's music was. Having just mentioned to my friend how I liked the current song, I felt obligated to defend it as one of my recent favorites. She looked flustered for a second before admitting that maybe this song was okay, but there was some definitely weird stuff in the store's musical selection. To prove her point she cited a particular song that went on about handstands and strawberries. I got inside-excited at this point because I knew she was referring to Bruises by Chairlift. It's an adorable song I happened across a while ago that has since made its way into many a playlist in my collection. I asked if that was it, and she admitted it was. Instead of being embarrassed about having accidentally-maybe-backhandedly insulted a customer's musical proclivities twice, she launched into a giggly, chipmunk-style rendition of the song; a humorous way of defending her perception of the song without arguing with me about my opinion. Nicely done.
It was a weird interaction, especially considering I try to not make eye contact with people I don't know, and rarely engage in chit-chat with cashiers. Way to go Marni from Old Navy, you managed to drag me out of my shell. Plus, you made me feel capable of conversing about music, which I typically don't consider myself informed enough to do.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Friday Reflection: Well Done, Sister Suffragette.
As a history major, I've had a lot of opportunity to think about women in history. There seems to be two different categories: women who did things and became famous because they were women, and women who did things and became famous because of those things.
I'll give you two examples. Elizabeth Blackwell was the first acknowledged female to be awarded an M. D.. What she did (going to medical school) is significant because she was a woman. Nellie Bly was a journalist who committed herself to an insane asylum to report on conditions for patients. What she did (pioneering investigative journalism) is significant despite her gender.
I have tendency to disregard the Elizabeth Blackwells as somehow less important than the Nellie Blys. I think this is partly because in some warped version of feminism, I try to eliminate gender as a factor in historical context. Many men had studied medicine and it was no surprise that a woman could do so as well. Blackwell was no more special or talented than the men who preceded her or the thousands of women who have since become doctors. The fact that we celebrate her accomplishment more than others seems sexist to me. "Oh wow! A woman doctor! That's something you'd never expected to see! What a curiosity!"
This, of course, is ridiculous. One of the hardest lessons I have learned is that history does not exist in a vacuum. I can't just eliminate factors and variables because my modern perspective tells me they should be insignificant. Blackwell lived in a time when societal gender roles placed enormous limitations on opportunities for women in the professional world, and Blackwell lead the way for all those who followed in her footsteps.
Women's history is tricky because of the limited resources we have to study them. I guess another aspect I have trouble with is how the few women we do know about seem overrepresented. What about the countless other unnamed women from the past who have made significant contributions to the narrative of history? Why on earth do we celebrate Betsy Ross (allegedly) sewing a simple flag when there are so many women who must have made more substantial contributions to the Revolutionary War? And the simple answer is that we can't celebrate those things that we don't know about. So maybe we can celebrate these unknown women symbolically through the few we do know. I think I'm okay with that.
I'll give you two examples. Elizabeth Blackwell was the first acknowledged female to be awarded an M. D.. What she did (going to medical school) is significant because she was a woman. Nellie Bly was a journalist who committed herself to an insane asylum to report on conditions for patients. What she did (pioneering investigative journalism) is significant despite her gender.
I have tendency to disregard the Elizabeth Blackwells as somehow less important than the Nellie Blys. I think this is partly because in some warped version of feminism, I try to eliminate gender as a factor in historical context. Many men had studied medicine and it was no surprise that a woman could do so as well. Blackwell was no more special or talented than the men who preceded her or the thousands of women who have since become doctors. The fact that we celebrate her accomplishment more than others seems sexist to me. "Oh wow! A woman doctor! That's something you'd never expected to see! What a curiosity!"
This, of course, is ridiculous. One of the hardest lessons I have learned is that history does not exist in a vacuum. I can't just eliminate factors and variables because my modern perspective tells me they should be insignificant. Blackwell lived in a time when societal gender roles placed enormous limitations on opportunities for women in the professional world, and Blackwell lead the way for all those who followed in her footsteps.
Women's history is tricky because of the limited resources we have to study them. I guess another aspect I have trouble with is how the few women we do know about seem overrepresented. What about the countless other unnamed women from the past who have made significant contributions to the narrative of history? Why on earth do we celebrate Betsy Ross (allegedly) sewing a simple flag when there are so many women who must have made more substantial contributions to the Revolutionary War? And the simple answer is that we can't celebrate those things that we don't know about. So maybe we can celebrate these unknown women symbolically through the few we do know. I think I'm okay with that.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Friday Reflection: A New Leaf?
Freshman year of high school I had an amazing English teacher who challenged me in every aspect of her class. Every week we had to submit three short "journal entries" that could be on whatever topic we chose. The next week we would get them back with two grades—one for grammar and one for content. I still have no idea what her grading criteria were, but they frustrated me to no end.
Admittedly, I usually cranked these reflections out three-at-a-time during my lunch period every Friday (I never was one for planning ahead). That probably explains why I never got 'A's on my grammar, but the content grades drove me nuts. Since she gave us no criteria for what to write on, I had no clue what to say. But I knew I had to write them. In my attempts to sound sophisticated and win that content-based A, I inevitably ended up with rambling, childish attempts to say something significant and poignant. I think I missed the point, really.
I wasn't supposed to be recording earth-shattering revelations that would paint the world in a new light for readers. I was just supposed to get used to writing. Whether I used the space to recall thoughts, foster new ones, or just entertain my reader, writing was the key. Taking an idea and putting it into words. As I look back, I regret wasting that opportunity by cramming it into a half-hour of frantic typing each week.
I keep thinking I should use this blog to do more writing. Truth be told, I'm still not sure I have anything worth while to say. But the ability to express my thoughts is important to me, so I'm going to try something new. One reflection a week, posted on Fridays. I'll try to keep the length between 300 and 500 words. I invite anyone reading this to join me. If you do, let me know, I'd love to read your stuff! I promise not to leave comments grading you based on grammar OR content.
Admittedly, I usually cranked these reflections out three-at-a-time during my lunch period every Friday (I never was one for planning ahead). That probably explains why I never got 'A's on my grammar, but the content grades drove me nuts. Since she gave us no criteria for what to write on, I had no clue what to say. But I knew I had to write them. In my attempts to sound sophisticated and win that content-based A, I inevitably ended up with rambling, childish attempts to say something significant and poignant. I think I missed the point, really.
I wasn't supposed to be recording earth-shattering revelations that would paint the world in a new light for readers. I was just supposed to get used to writing. Whether I used the space to recall thoughts, foster new ones, or just entertain my reader, writing was the key. Taking an idea and putting it into words. As I look back, I regret wasting that opportunity by cramming it into a half-hour of frantic typing each week.
I keep thinking I should use this blog to do more writing. Truth be told, I'm still not sure I have anything worth while to say. But the ability to express my thoughts is important to me, so I'm going to try something new. One reflection a week, posted on Fridays. I'll try to keep the length between 300 and 500 words. I invite anyone reading this to join me. If you do, let me know, I'd love to read your stuff! I promise not to leave comments grading you based on grammar OR content.
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