Oppression and Disenfranchisement

Speaking of comments on online articles, early this year I came across a story about a proposed World Hijab Day, in which women were encouraged to wear a hijab in support of the Muslim women who do so every day. I was intrigued by the thought, although I thought it would be difficult to find a decent but cheap hijab and learn how to wear it in time. I clicked through to the comments to see what other people had to say on the subject. There wasn't much; one comment about learning to wrap it, and maybe one other about the cost.

One thing really surprised me about the comments: the number of people who confused the hijab, a headscarf that covers the hair, ears, and neck, with the burka, the garment that exposes only the eyes. Hijab was even defined in the article!

But most of the conversation was about the idea that wearing a hijab or a burka is a sign of oppression of women. A couple different people told about how and why Muslim women of their acquaintance like wearing the coverings. One story I remember in particular is that of a woman who had grown up in an area where the burka was required. When studying in London, she noticed the men looking her over in a way that men hadn't when she was wearing the burka and felt that they were thus more distracted from her words than the men she had grown up around.

And in response to this anecdote, someone said, in effect, "It's amazing how disenfranchised people can rationalize things to themselves to keep themselves from recognizing their oppression."

What I thought about that was that such a complete disregard to her experience is a lot more disenfranchising than a piece of cloth could be.

Picking Presidents

Several weeks ago I saw a message board thread titled Americans, who are you voted for President? I debated about whether to read it, as online conflict and vitriol tends to affect my mood in the real world, but for some reason decided to go ahead with it. Luckily it stayed civil throughout. But, anyway, the original poster asked whether Americans chose their president based on who would be best for the country or who would be best for the world. One of the posters responded by saying, "Time and again, people here in the U.S. of A. vote against their own interests, never mind the rest of the world."

Now, that could be a very insightful and accurate comment - after all, it can be hard enough to know what is best for yourself sometimes, let alone the whole nation. But that sort of comment is usually followed by an example - as I think it was in this case - of "After all, we elected Obama" or "We re-elected Bush". Implying, of course, that the commenter does know what would have been best for the nation.

A few years ago I mentioned social scientist John Gottman and his book 7 Principle for Making Marriage Work. At one point in Gottman's book he quotes another book, After the Honeymoon by Dane Wile.

Paul married Alice and Alice gets loud at parties and Paul, who is shy, hates that. But if Paul had married Susan, he and Susan would have gotten into a fight before they even got to the party. That's because Paul is always late and Susan hates to be kept waiting. She would feel taken for granted, which she is very sensitive about. Paul would see her complaining about this as her attempt to dominate him, which he is sensitive about. If Paul had married Gail, they wouldn't have even gone to the party because they would still be upset about an argument they had the day before about Paul's not helping with the housework. To Gail, when Paul does not help, she feels abandoned, which she is sensitive about, and to Paul, Gail's complaining is an attempt at domination, which he is sensitive about.

So, basically what this passage is showing is that whoever you choose to marry, there will be problems. The same with presidents - nobody could be perfect at every aspect of running a country. We see what's wrong with the country now, but how do we know what things would be like if we'd elected Gore or McCain? Of course, I'm not saying that it doesn't matter who we marry or elect. We do need to think carefully about those decisions. But once we make our choice, it's made and for now are stuck with it. If things are really bad we can change, but good reasons for divorce and for ousting a president are not incredibly common.

But electing presidents is very different than choosing who to marry in many ways, one of which is that we have a scheduled time to choose a president again. If did that all the time with marriage it could lead to stress and unhappiness for just about everybody who mattered in our lives. So now we are making the president decision again. And I think that for this election you don't need to think about who we should have picked 4 or 8 or 12 years ago- think in the situation we are in now, and with the knowledge we have now, who do I think is the best choice for the next 4 years?

Distraction vs. Discrimination

I just read that Santorum opposes legislation that is about to pass allowing women to serve on the military front lines. He claims that because men tend to be protective of women, they would worry about the women and be distracted from doing their own jobs. This made sense to me.

Then I read the handful of comments that were showing at the bottom of the page. One of them mentioned that soldiers are already concerned about the men they serve with and manage to get their jobs done, so why should adding women change that? This also made sense.

So, in a very dangerous situation, would a man be significantly more concerned about the welfare of a woman than he would that of a man in the same situation, assuming both to be strong, healthy, fit, and competent? Having never been (a) male or (b) working with others to accomplish an important goal in life-threatening conditions, I find this impossible to answer.

What Are They Thinking?

Not too long ago there was a popular video going around called "Should Christian women wear bikinis?" that talked about how the male brain reacts to seeing a scantily-clad woman. In it, the presenter read an excerpt from an article from Princeton and said, in part, "When the young men viewed the scantily-clad women, the part of the brain associated with tool use lit up...The researchers also discovered that when some of the men viewed these scantily-clad females, the men's medial prefrontal cortex (part of your brain) was deactivated... This is the region of the brain associated with analyzing a person's thoughts, intentions, and feelings.... The doctor remarked, 'It's as if they were reacting to these women as if they were not fully human.'"

I didn't read the research myself, but I'm assuming for now that it made it through peer review and was published in a reputable academic journal. And judging from the men of my acquaintance who shared it, it does fit with their personal experience, at least to some extent.

I would like to point out, by the way, that not every man's medial prefrontal cortex deactivated when looking at the pictures.

On Tuesday, a college friend of mine shared a link about a new law in Pakistan against throwing acid on women. As part of her response to a question I asked about it, she said, "Before this law, it was customary for a man to throw acid on a woman for an indiscretion like failing to bear a son, or out of rejection (if I can't have her, no one will want her because she'll be disfigured!), or through an inability to provide a handsome dowry to the husband from her parents, or for any reason that stems from revenge, or the need to dominate and control."

I can't help but wonder what the brain scans would show when those men looked at a woman. Because even a tool is generally better treated than that. And it's hard to imagine that somebody would throw acid at a person while really considering their thoughts, intentions, and feelings.

Teaching Children

On the first anniversary of the September 11 attacks, my history teacher had us write how we would explain the attacks to our future children. It was an interesting exercise, looking back: seeing something from our experience and our lifetime as an event that would be studied in similar history classes in the future as well as showing that what we were studying in that class had impacted the lives of real people. Well, it had that potential, anyway.

My city decided to hold a moment of silence at 11:00 this morning. The Bishop informed us of this during the announcements at the beginning of Sacrament Meeting so we would know what was going on if they set it off with sirens or something, and so we could participate if we so desired. It would be during the transition between Sunday School and Relief Society/Priesthood, so wouldn't affect the adults' lessons. I, however, would be in Primary. Because I have never bothered to memorize the exact start and end times of lessons - knowing what time to get to church and about what time I'll be leaving has always been enough for me - I wasn't sure whether I would be in class or in Sharing Time. But I did know that if they announced the moment of silence with sirens, the kids would be curious about what was going on. And so I thought a bit about what I would tell them if our class was disrupted. And I wondered whether hearing about it would scare them, and if so how I could help them feel safe, or if it would seem so long ago as to have no meaning in their lives. After all, 10 years ago none of them had even been born.

Well, the class wasn't disrupted. Apparently the city trusted everybody to realize that it was time to be quiet on their own. But the possibility started me thinking about when I will be teaching my own children. Will I be telling them about September 11 as a one-time thing when they are older and able to understand complex topics, in a manner similar to the paper I wrote in class? Will I teach them a little bit at a time as they're ready to hear it? Or will the topic just never come up and I leave it entirely to the schools? I hope I will do it the second way, a little at a time. That seems to be the best way to handle most topics. But I worry that I'll end up going with the third because it just doesn't come up and I don't think to bring it up or can't find a way to do so.

Death of a Bad Man

Reading people's responses to the news of bin Laden's death last night left me feeling ill. Not all of them. The ones talking about political and military consequences didn't bother me. What got to me was people in joyful celebration of the death of another human being.

Sometimes when a person dies, their friends and family are glad that they are done with the pain and suffering from disease. I don't know much about bin Laden's condition over the last few years. It wouldn't surprise me if there had been suffering. But somehow I doubt that's what my facebook friends are celebrating. And sometimes people use a funeral as a celebration of the life that has just ended, remembering the fun times and the good things the recently deceased did and achieved. I find this an even less likely reason for my friends' attitudes. What they really remind me of are public executions.

I've read of hangings and beheading and such being festive occasions where people crowd into the town square to see the proceedings. I don't know if they actually went down as such; this image comes entirely from novels and movies. But I could never understand why somebody would want to go see a person killed, and then afterward how they could have any spirit of gaiety or even an appetite. They just watched a person die. A life was taken. Even if the punishment was deserved (and I am not at all in the mood to debate the merits of capital punishment), it should have been a sober occasion.

I tell myself that the celebrations are because they see a military victory and a step towards peace. And I am sure that for some it is. But what it looks like to me is delight in the killing of an enemy. Well, I'm not good at looking at people as enemies. The closest I come is wishing bad luck on sports rivals. I am a complete failure at hatred. And what I see is that one of Heavenly Father's children has been killed. And instead of a celebration of the great life lived, I feel sorrow for the waste of potential and the loss of the good life that could have been.

A Current Event

The television show Big Love is planning to show parts of the endowment on TV this coming Sunday. Naturally, a lot of people are upset. Including me. And everyone has a different opinion on the best way to handle it. Some people have already written and called complaints to the folks at HBO. Some people say that the best thing is to ignore it so as to not bring more publicity. I don't know which side I agree with.

The thing is, most of the response I have seen from nonmembers is negative toward any indignation or offense we feel or any action we take to try to prevent this from being shown. And they assume that it's because we are ashamed of what goes on in the temple. No matter how we express that we are really offended because of the light treatment of the very sacred, they do not get it.

I think some people have no conception of the sacred. And that makes me very sad in addition to the hurt and disappointment.

Holy Envy

The first time I remember hearing of Holy Envy was while watching a video in some Institute Leadership meeting. In it, there was a clergyman of another faith who said he envied the Mormons for our belief in eternal families and desire to work to save our ancestors. His definition of holy envy was finding something in another religion that you can admire and maybe even learn from.

In December, Mitt Romney expressed such admiration in his Faith in America speech:

I believe that every faith I have encountered draws its adherents closer to God. And in every faith I have come to know, there are features I wish were in my own: I love the profound ceremony of the Catholic Mass, the approachability of God in the prayers of the Evangelicals, the tenderness of spirit among the Pentecostals, the confident independence of the Lutherans, the ancient traditions of the Jews, unchanged through the ages, and the commitment to frequent prayer of the Muslims. As I travel across the country and see our towns and cities, I am always moved by the many houses of worship with their steeples, all pointing to heaven, reminding us of the source of life’s blessings.

And now I will move on to the reason for this post. There is one practice completely absent from the church that I would love to borrow- Christmas services. At one point, this would have been the last thing I wanted. After all, church or mass on Christmas means that much less time for the fun aspects of Christmas. But the last year Christmas fell on a Sunday, we went to church, and that Christmas was probably the most meaningful Christmas I have experienced.

So, I suppose I should take from this an effort to put more of Christ in my own Christmasses. I'll have to consider how to best do that when I set up traditions for my future family. Until then, meditation and scripture study will have to do, unless the Church does start to have Christmas services as well.