My Feminist Icon is…

Dear Naomi Wolf,

I’m really a fan of your work. So I’m quite confused by the article you wrote about Angelina Jolie in Harper’s Bazaar where you declared her the new feminist icon.

One of your reasons? Because she had escaped the Madonna/Whore debacle. Interesting? Did she really? Was she ever a shoe-in for the Madonna? There isn’t enough ‘orphan’ in China to cover those tattoos. Sorry. (I have three tattoos myself, I love tattoos, but the Madonna – last time I checked – had none.)

Escape the image of the Whore? Um. Last time I checked she had an affair with a married man and then told everyone about it in a magazine. You wrote, ‘she managed the almost unheard-of task of turning the home-wrecker label into a wholesome, family-friendly triumph.’ …………….. Sorry for the pause. I was busy. Throwing up.

Is this a joke? Who decided that she triumphed and who the hell called it wholesome? I think what she did was horrid and unforgivable. I’ve never caught her face on the front of the tabloids and thought anything but, ‘Ew.’ She did something wrong. She hurt at least one person, badly. And because the media decided to spin it one particular way, she triumphed? Naomi, you say it yourself: Maddox was photographed playing squeaky clean football with Brad Pitt, the father figure, and by Annie Liebovitz loving his mother. This was not a triumph – but a well-played, well-moneyed PR stunt.

I don’t care how much good she does in the world, you can’t really erase that, can you??? Maybe you can note her change or congratulate her for doing good things – but call a spade a spade. I beg you.

Then, you claim that because Santa Angelina (as Perez likes to call her) got her pilot’s license, she’s chosen “the classic metaphor for choosing your own direction.” Oh? What about a race car driver like Danica Patrick? What about Secretary of State like Hilary Clinton (I mean, she travels all over the world!)? What about an artist? What about a writer? I can think of dozens of professions that involve choosing your own direction. Boldly, even.

You also declare that ‘she took for her own pleasure the male seen as the most desired of the tribe, Brad Pitt.’ Not to me. I’m a George Clooney kind of a girl. And there’s something so barbaric in your word choice…but I get that you meant to do that. You want us to see her as the cavewoman clubbing the man and dragging him back to her cave. You succeeded, I just don’t find that alluring, praise-worthy or as a desirable behavior.

Maybe this is my favorite part of your article:

“Yes, she is conventionally beautiful: Bosomy and wasp-waisted, with that curtain of hair and those crazy pillowy lips, she is an obvious male sex fantasy.”

Hello? Naomi? Are you even in there??? You, yes YOU, the one that wrote The Beauty Myth. On what planet is Angelina Jolie ‘conventionally beautiful’??? Her boobs are huge. She looks anorexic – whether she is or isn’t, her bones poke out and there is no meat on her. She’s 34 years old, has carried three children in her womb and her stomach is non-existent and those boobs stand up without stretch marks so far as we can see. Her lips are, as you say, pillows – meaning overstuffed (and I’m sure they’re natural, they do seem to exist in her childhood photos). BUT MOST WOMEN DON’T LOOK LIKE THAT.

If I remember correctly, you wanted to liberate us from thinking we needed to idolize that male, sexualized, impossible to attain ideal! Just because some women, or the majority according to your poll, think she’s hot doesn’t make it okay. Why do you think they find her attractive? Doesn’t this beauty myth play a role. Wasn’t your theory that women are pressured into taking on this idealized concept of the female body? By men?

I read your book a long time ago, when it came out in 1991. And it meant so much to me. So much – as a woman who was struggling with an eating disorder, who had just found herself plopped in an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog masquerading as a private, New England college, who went on to struggle and survive, who was proudly among the first small group of women to graduate with a Women’s Studies major.

So, my feminst icon? Well, she used to look a little bit like Gloria Steinem, Alice Walker, Billie Jean King, Sylvia Boorstein and my fourth grade teacher, Holly Tetlow, all rolled into one. But the more I read your article, the more I realized that my icon is so much more. She’s new women I meet doing amazing things, female authors that are writing their hearts out, mothers that survive the loss of a child, girls finding their voices, she’s my friends, she’s my family. And she’s me – on my good days and on my bad ones.

We are more universal. We’re a grab bag, really. As diverse as our needs and wants on any given day. But, bottomline, my icon is real. She’s here.

Live and let live. I don’t know Angelina Jolie and I don’t pretend to just becuase I can read about her life in People magazine. But, I do know my icons, idols, role models and fantasies…and they look, act and exist nothing like Angelina Jolie.

Oh, just helping out the Gov’nor

On Tuesday, Ron Miller was tweeting away – meeting new people, offering pertinent information – perhaps a little humor, when this tweet came across his screen:

yes we can: barack obama elected 44th president of the u.s.

YES, WE DID! And, no, we didn’t.

This election has turned out to be very bittersweet for me. When I wanted pure sweet victory, it seems that our country still has a long way to go as constitutional amendments filled with hate, intolerance and total ignorance were passed to ban gay marriage in California, Arizona and Florida.

In California, 61% of the people voted for Barack Obama while only 48% voted against Proposition 8. I’m at a loss for what those 13% were thinking. How can you vote for Barack – his kindness, his background, his message, his mission, his vision, his words, his action – and then vote for an amendment that is homophobic, non-inclusive and strips good, loving people of their civil rights.

This country has some healing to do. I know that Barack Obama is going to help us on this journey, and that we’ll have to work hard to do our part. We’ll overturn these amendments in time. Just like goodness overwhelmed and prevailed in Barack’s election, it will eventually overwhelm and prevail in the hearts of all Americans, in all people.

I can only educate people, live as an example for what is right…and hope.

voting, dreams and my psyche

My dreams have always been rather extravagant. They’re long, rolling affairs that flow like a 5,000 page novel strewn with unlikely, but extraordinarily real, appearances from people in both my past and my present. My dreams are filled with emotion, and I wake up feeling like they actually happened with the residue of the experience sticking to me…sometimes for the rest of that day. Sometimes, it’s hard to shake.

I’ve had three recurring dream themes for as long as I can remember about:

1. Swimming (in pools mostly)
2. Airplanes (because I’m terrified to fly)
3. Not being able to see (like when you come inside after being in the blinding sun)

I don’t have those classic and cliche dreams about showing up to school naked or sitting down to a test and not knowing the answers; I don’t have dreams that speak directly to my current goings on or reflect literal and immediate anxieties…I just never have.

But last night, I had a marathon dream in which every thing that could go wrong with my voting activities went wrong.

• I stood in my line to vote, Barack was at the table receiving ballots, and after waiting for a really long time and getting right up to the front, I realized that I had never checked in and didn’t have my ballot.
• Then, I went to get the ballot and didn’t have the money to pay for it. (yes, I know it’s free to vote – this was a dream)
• Somehow, I got back in line and when I got to the front, Barack was talking about his grandmother who just passed, ‘Toot’, and I hugged him and cried with him, but still had no way to actually vote.
• I finally got my ballot and went back to get in line but now it was miles long.
• I waited and waited…and several other nutty things happened.
• Then, just as I got to the head of the line, Barack and his children had their lunch break, they turned around to the other side of their table, and we were told to go find another line.

Over and over again, I’d find myself in line, at the voting building, only to realize that I still hadn’t managed to vote.

Oy. It seems that this election has done a serious number on my psyche…my subconscious is feeling it.

I live in a tiny town on a tiny island. I will vote today…I know that…so maybe my anxiety was as indirect as usual…maybe it was for all of you (who I can’t control and are likely to face interminably long lines and broken voting systems).

So, do me a favor…vote (early, often and for Obama) and let me know when you did…it’ll put my mind at ease.

Update: I voted. I cried when we got to the polls, when I saw someone holding an Obama sign outside – I was so overwhelmed with how amazing all of this has been. It took exactly 12 minutes from start to finish, beginning of the line to out the door. I stared at the Obama/Biden line and the oval that I had filled in – I wanted to remember what it looked like after I left. I wanted to make sure I had done it right.

some thoughts on the day before the biggest election of our time

Three years ago tomorrow, I went to my midwives’ office for my 35 week maternity wellness appointment only to find that my blood pressure was 260 over 210, and that I had a serious case of preeclampsia.

I was put on this horrid drug – the Mag drip (really just IV Epsom Salts that turned me into a lump of bloated pregnant person – I couldn’t even lift my arms) so that I wouldn’t seize and, well, die. They told me I was not going to leave the hospital without my baby because childbirth is the only cure.

And, even still, as they were wheeling me into my hospital room from the ambulance. I said, “Wait! What’s the date?” Someone said, “Novemeber 4th.”

“I can’t have my baby on November 4th!” I exclaimed. “George Bush was elected on Novemeber 4th!” Seriously, that was my thought in the middle of my life or death situation.  The wounds from the 2004 election were still painful and oozing. And, luckily, she wasn’t born that day. I had Sophie two days later on November 6th.

But, now I’ve been thinking. There’s an outstanding chance that if I had delivered my baby girl on the 4th, I could have said from tomorrow onto forever, that, “Barack Obama was elected on November 4th!” And that would have been an incredible day for a birthday. Just incredible.

Some other random thoughts:

1. Once the election ends, will I still feel the need to ask (directly or indirectly) who people I connect with online and in person voted for? Up to this point, I have been because I want them to know up front what they’ll get in my communications and where I stand…and I don’t want any surprises from them. Or I want to be ready for the conversation.

Also, I saw that Starbucks’ ad – and we can’t only care now. Change will only happen if we stay this engaged – so won’t it be important for me to know who I’m talking to and engage them in further discussion or find ways to work together to make good things happen?

2. What are we going to talk about after the election? And the answer really brings me back to the point above. We need to keep talking about change, we need to stay engaged on the ground and in our communities. We need to ‘act like grownups’ and do our part to make this country and world better. This election will be won in huge part because of the phone calls, the blogs, the conversations, the door to door – the grassroots, community-based work that we have all done.

When this election is over, we will keep working, we’ll pay attention. We won’t just let government do whatever they want. We’ve tried that, going about our daily lives and figuring it was okay because we live in a democracy, and it didn’t work. Now, we’ll have a voice, we’ll use it and we’ll be heard.

Please VOTE!!! Every single vote counts. And, if you have neighbors that might need help going to the polls, please take them with you…we can only make this happen if we work together.

It’s 10:30pm, do you know where your 5 month-old son is?

It’s minutes after the Vice Presidential debate between Sarah Palin and Joe Biden, I’m watching Sarah Palin walk the rope line, flashes everywhere, the lights couldn’t be brighter. Then, she’s at the after debate party. People are yelling and screaming. It’s 10:3pm, St. Louis time.

And behind her? Her 5 month old, Down Syndrome son. Being held by her daughters – at one point her very young daughter, who could hardly hold him up, he’s almost as big as her.

This is being a good mother?  I think it’s using your kids to get votes. I think this special needs and highly sensitive child should be in bed, somewhere quiet and peaceful. Infants don’t have defenses, they depend on their caretakers to protect them. Infants are extra-sensitive to light, noise, touch, taste, smell. Down Syndrome children even more so.

I’m appalled. I’m furious. I want to go help that child.

(Oh, and Biden clearly won the debate and McCain pulled his campaign on Michigan.)

the power of MOM

I know that moms are powerful. I am one, I have one, I’m married to (the best) one, I’m surrounded by many in the real world and the web world. But, still I’m blown away by what moms are doing on the internet.

I will not attempt to cover all of the phenom moms that exist in the world within this post…I’m just going to highlight a few that are on my current radar screen:

Twitter Moms Moms who tweet: find, follow, lead, learn, love and share. Megan Calhoun started a social network, oh, a few weeks ago for moms on Twitter. Over 1,800 (and growing at a rapid pace) moms have joined in that time – forming groups, supporting each other’s lives and businesses, networking, laughing. Amazing. One of the most entertaining functions: #GNO, or Girls’ Night Out – an online tweet meet. If you’re a mom and you tweet, you must check it out. Follow Megan on Twitter @twittermoms.

Mom Bloggers Club Jennifer James supports the mom bloggers of the world with her social network. Over 1,800 moms meet up with the common connection of blogging. Conversations are alive and well via many groups and the site runs sweet giveaways. Jennifer also runs The Mom Salon which is a comprehensive catalog of mom bloggers…submit your blog today and get listed in the soon to be realeased, revamped directory. Follow Jennifer on Twitter @mombloggersclub.

Jessica Smith hails from Wishpot, Jessica Knows (her blog) and Chief Mom Officer.org. Honestly, she does so many things, it’s hard to keep track. But, after being hired as the Chief Mom Officer (CMO) for Wishpot (a very mom-style shopping/search/cart), she created Chief Mom Officer.org to help companies attain and leverage the untapped professional experience of mothers to build their businesses – how smart is that. Follow Jessica on Twitter @JessicaKnows.

The MOMocrats blog was started by Stefania Pomponi Butler, Beth Blecherman, and Glennia Campbell because, as mothers, they wanted to participate in and influence the 2008 presidential campaign. Their tagline: Rage against the McCain. MOMocrats is a serious political force doing incredible grassroots work online and in the world – it’s where moms get political (and don’t you all know that this mom is all over that!). Yesterday, Michelle Obama guest blogged, how’s that for going to the top political mom? Follow MOMocrats on Twitter @momocrats.

I could go on and on and on…but I’ll save some other cool moms for another post. If you take the time to peruse these women’s sites and accomplishments, you’ll be busy for days and thank me for not adding more.

Bottomline: these women are powerhouses, they have grabbed the internet by the horns and demonstrated gumption, creativity and kindness. That’s right, kindness – these are good people, righteous moms.

what’s in a date?

I have three other posts that I’m working on that could be published here today, but I can’t do it. Every time I try, there’s like an actual buffer between me and them…like that invisible, yet palpable, barrier created when you try to push the wrong sides of a magnet together.

For me, today, that impasse is September 11th. I can’t escape it because it’s staring at me from the little calendar icon in my dock just inches below these words. I can’t escape it because that day and its memory terrify me to my very core, still. I can’t escape it because I’m imagining terrorists everywhere hoping the U.S. is dumb enough to elect Palin so that they can really take us down. Morbid, yes, but don’t forget I’m a writer with an energetic imagination, for better and for worse.

Tomorrow, I’ll be talking about writing and marketing again.

Today, I’m going to remember, reflect and think of as many ways as possible to move forward with this country into a safe, responsible and better future. And, then, take action.