Author Archives: Miri

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About Miri

Writer, activist, social worker, and huge fan of cats, flowers, and cities.

Think of the Children

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Being a 20-year-old college student, I don’t often write about issues relating to children. However, not only do I plan on having kids someday, but I also think that how our society relates to children is often a fascinating subject to study. Furthermore, some things just piss me off.

The subject of this post is both fascinating and infuriating. A blog I follow called Free Range Kids had a post several days ago describing a new law in the works in New Jersey:

We’re getting to the point where ANYTHING having to do with children is so fraught with inflated fears that we are going absolutely crazy. Consider this bill just introduced in the New Jersey state assembly: It would outlaw the photographing or videotaping of kids in situations in which “a reasonable parent or guardian would not expect his child to be the subject of such reproduction.”

According to the post, the reason for this new law is that last summer, a 63-year-old man was caught taking photos of (fully-clothed) girls because, according to him, he finds prepubescent girls “sexy.” While this is, of course, culturally unacceptable (not to mention pretty gross), does it really harm anyone? Is it really that much worse than a camera-less old man simply watching those girls and discreetly masturbating?

Furthermore, as the post mentions, this law would criminalize anyone who takes pictures of their kids in a sports game or at a birthday party, or anyone who takes artistic photographs in public places, which may include children. Since I’m basically my family’s unofficial photographer, I can definitely imagine how frustrating that would be.

I think the question these lawmakers need to ask is, how would this law make children safer? It does nothing to prevent pedophilia or childhood sexual abuse. Someone who has a strong enough sexual urge towards kids to do something like this is unlikely to be restrained by any law, especially when it’s so easy to take photos on the sly.

Ultimately, law-making is about balance. Laws should not cause way more trouble for law-abiding citizens than they’re worth, and this one definitely does.

Mea Culpa

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mea cul·pa. Latin. through my fault; my fault (used as an acknowledgment of one’s responsibility).

Apologies have an interesting social function. I think that many people underestimate their power because they don’t necessarily “fix” the harm that was done, but in my opinion that’s an overly simplistic view of things.

Many people have trouble saying sorry. Some think that an apology is unnecessary if the harm done was accidental or unavoidable. (Possibly they also argue that accidental implies unavoidable.) Others think that there is no need to apologize if they believe they behaved correctly and that the other person should not have been offended or upset. There are also people who don’t believe in apologies because they don’t actually “fix” anything. And still others–the largest group, I believe–simply don’t like the feeling of apologizing, so they avoid it altogether.

But why? Maybe because apologizing puts you in a vulnerable position. It forces you to admit, implicitly or otherwise, that you were wrong. It forces you to confront the fact that your actions sometimes have unexpected negative consequences and that people often see your actions very differently than you do. It also opens up the possibility that the other person will reject your apology, and nobody likes rejection.

I definitely used to belong to this group of people. I hated apologizing. It felt crappy and even after I did it, I still felt like the other person was going to hold a grudge.

I’ve grown up since then, though, and now I give out apologies like some people give out hugs. I apologize for everything that I might’ve done wrong, from accidentally cutting someone off as we’re walking into a classroom to not answering a friend’s text in a timely way to seriously upsetting someone. I apologize even for things that many people don’t think require an apology. And it feels great. I feel like my respect and consideration is a gift, but unlike the gifts you buy, I can give out as much of this one as I want.

From this, and from the pain I feel when others don’t extend me the same courtesy I extend to them, I’ve started slowly figuring out exactly what the function of apology in human society is. It’s a social lubricant–and I don’t mean in the same way alcohol is. It’s a social lubricant in the sense that it keeps relationships going smoothly and provides a way for people to let each other know that they care about and respect each other. An apology rarely fixes the problem that it caused, but it lets the person who was harmed know that the other person still cares.

For instance, several weeks ago I posted something on Facebook that a friend of mine found offensive (it made fun of her future career) and she posted a really angry comment on it saying that she was offended. I honestly found her response completely overreactive and entirely too public. Nevertheless, I set that aside and acknowledged that she was upset and wrote her a message apologizing and explaining that I hadn’t meant to offend her. She responded with an apology for her overreaction and accepted mine. And everything went on just as it had before.

But if at any point during this interaction–if I’d decided that her overreaction absolved me from having to apologize, or if she’d decided that my apology retroactively justified her overreaction–then things wouldn’t have gone so well. In the first case, she would’ve been stuck with a grudge against me, and in the second, I would’ve felt taken advantage of, like my conscientiousness had simply been abused.

Apologizing is one thing that I believe I do very well, so it’s difficult to understand why others can’t do it too. Like listening, writing, and reading critically, it’s one of those skills that are lacking in American society. I think it’s because people fail to recognize the power that a simple apology can have, and I wish there were a way (aside from writing slightly presumptuous blog posts) to show them they’re wrong.

Should the Personal be Political?

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I recently came across the site Does This Make Sense? and I already love it. It’s got a lot of intelligent, thoughtful commentary. One piece that I particularly liked is called “Hell, No. I Won’t Say No.” It concerns the idea that women who want to change their society should withhold sex from men until their wishes are fulfilled. Lorraine Berry writes:

In principle, choosing not to have heterosexual sex as a protest against policies that restrict women’s abilities to have autonomy over their bodies seems the ultimate in women’s power. It did, to some extent, work in the case of Liberia, where the brave women there forced their men to continue negotiating for peace by sitting naked outside the building where the negotiations were taking place.

Ultimately, though, Berry argues that this form of protest is not only ineffective but counterproductive for women who happen to enjoy sex (which is, I might argue, almost all of them). There are many problems with a “sex boycott, such as what gays and lesbians would do, and the fact that it almost seems to confirm right-wingers’ anti-sex campaign (no abortion, no contraception, no pornography, no comprehensive sex ed, no premarital sex, no non-hetero sex, and so on).

However, I have another problem with it, and it involves the concept of “the personal is political.”

Here I’m going to just be a bad feminist and say that I disagree with this principle. Of course, I do believe that people should live according to their values (political ones included), but I cannot condone manipulating personal relationships for the sake of one’s politics. Unless your partner is personally overseeing the campaign to take control of women’s bodies, it’s completely unreasonable, not to mention unethical, to punish him for the actions of certain other members of his gender. (This is not even to mention that I cannot imagine a feminist woman dating an anti-feminist man to begin with.)

And, in general, I don’t think that politics should direct one’s personal life. If I choose to date a woman, it’ll be because I like her, not because I want to make a political statement about bisexuality. If I choose to date someone of a different race, it’ll be because I like him/her, not because I want to make a political statement about interracial dating. In contrast, the so-called “political lesbianism” movement advocated choosing to be a lesbian for political purposes. How is this an authentic way of living?

Of course, sometimes the personal becomes political, as when an anti-gay politician is revealed to be having same-sex relations, or when people speculate on whether or not Elena Kagan is a lesbian. In the first case, although people may bristle at the obvious hypocrisy, I think being anti-gay is bad enough regardless of what one does in his spare time (and sending inappropriate messages to teens is bad enough regardless of their gender). As for the second, most would agree that it shouldn’t matter. The fact that people make it matter is the crux of the problem.

So, is the personal political? Maybe, but it shouldn’t be. In my opinion, personal relationships are a sort of refuge from the outside world. I don’t bring politics into the bedroom, just like I wouldn’t bring my cell phone or my laptop or God into it.

A Point-by-Point Assessment of “10 Reasons to Date a Depressive”

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[TMI Warning]

Thought Catalog had an interesting post yesterday called “10 Reasons to Date a Depressive.” It’s sardonic and irreverent but actually brings up a few good points about depressives (and dating them). I’m going to analyze the piece point-by-point and add my own (as usual, very serious and scholarly) commentary.

1. Anything you leave with them will be right where you left it, no matter how long you leave it. Pending suicide, hospitalization or just deciding to go somewhere else while in a melancholic haze, the depressive avoids doing, well, things.

Yeah, this is pretty true. I think I’m unusual in that I force myself to clean even when I’m feeling awful (because it helps), but many depressives don’t.

2. Borrowing money has two advantages. Depressives do not expect you to pay them back. It’s probable they don’t even remember lending it to you, after a while of nothing mattering.

Partially true. We do often feel like people are always going to take advantage of us (i.e. by not paying us back), but we never forget. We hold it in the back of our minds and feel resentful.

3. Cheap date. Most depressives who want to live at least a little are on some sort of antidepressant. The chemicals in most antidepressants increase the potency of alcohol. You may end up with vomit on you while they tell you stories of their missed opportunities. But then again, you may not. It’s good to stay optimistic around depressives, for obvious reasons. Also, most depressives don’t eat much.

Since I don’t really drink, I wouldn’t know about this. However, it’s worth pointing out that not only are some antidepressants potentially fatal if taken with alcohol, but it’s also a really bad idea to drink if you’re depressed (alcohol itself is a depressant, and so on and so forth). If you’re dating a depressive, please don’t encourage them to drink.

4. Avoiding the meet the family situation. Depressives usually hate their family. And depressives don’t want to meet your weirdo brood. That would interrupt days-long, pensive thought-loops. These are necessary for doing nothing.

Not true for me, but definitely true for some.

5. Sex. As with most things it’s a double-edge sword with the depressed. They may get wasted (easily, see above) and fuck some of that anger out on you or they may get wasted and spend the night in the emergency room. It is worth the risk, though, if only to do it once. Intoxicated sex with a highly-medicated depressive is liken swimming with dolphins.

Actually, many depressives lose interest in sex as a result of their condition, and many antidepressants can lower sex drive or inhibit orgasms as a side effect. Also, from what I’ve heard (but thankfully never experienced), drunk people in general are TERRIBLE at sex.

6. Drugs. Depressed people love to self-medicate. This often means unlimited beer and usually pills and pot. If you’re into speedy drugs though, you’re out of luck. Depressives are terribly uncomfortable with bouts of increased energy.

I wouldn’t know.

7. Poor memory and attention. Lucky for you, poor cognitive skills are a sign of depression! Depressed partners won’t remember things, like cruel words or mysterious sheet stains, and there’s less of a chance they’ll notice when you do stupid shit.

Only partially true. We definitely have poor memory and attention, but we will ALWAYS notice when you do stupid shit, ALWAYS freak out about it, and ALWAYS remember it.

8. A lot of quiet time. If you’re into quiet (though not usually the peaceful kind), depressives are for you. If they aren’t quiet due to overwhelming internal existential dread, you’re getting the silent treatment for whatever you most recently said or did that crushed their identity.

Haha. This is completely true. If you’re going to date a depressive, make sure you’re not one of those people who needs to be talking or doing something all the time. We like to sit around and think.

9. Sensitivity. Depressives are very sensitive people. This will work well for you when you are sick or lose your job or any time you need someone to feel sorry for you. Or maybe you saw a squirrel outside and then looked away and when you looked back it was gone and for a second you were slightly glum. Anything. Just don’t expect any actual help. Depressives are already too weighed down with pain to do physical activities.

So so so so true. Whenever one of my friends or family members is upset, I literally feel it in my heart. I would drop anything to help someone. Even if it’s not something that I personally would be upset about (for instance, one of my friends gets very upset about bad grades and I don’t really), it’s like my feet instantly go in their shoes. Most depressives I know are the same way. Of course, though, sensitivity also has the flip side of making people very easily hurt, which is one of the hallmarks of depression.

10.You are now awesome! When with depressives, usually a mess of bodily and foreign clothing stains, bloodshot eyes and plenty of hopelessness to share, you are truly a joy to all of the senses. So, even if you don’t want to invest in dating a depressive, just spending a little time with one can go a long way to making you feel better about yourself.

Honestly, from what I’ve heard, spending time with depressives makes you feel much more shitty than good. So don’t do it for that reason.

Periods and Misogyny

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This is what I hate.

This is from a Tumblr called, appropriately, “Fuck Periods.” It exists solely to bitch about various feminine problems, most notably, periods. As a woman, I’m all in favor of bitching about periods, but the stereotypes that are often expressed are pretty problematic.

First of all, this isn’t even accurate. I don’t know about any other women who may be reading this, but personally, I don’t “sit in one fucking place for fear of leakage” when I’m on my period. I also don’t get pissed the fuck off by “anything with a face.” When I’m on my period, I go to class, do homework, hang out with friends, go shopping, work out, eat, and sleep just like I do when I’m not on my period. Shocker! Women don’t stop functioning just because it’s that time of the month. Life goes on.

Second, this whole public period-bashing thing makes it even more likely that others (notably men) will attribute any negative mood or opinion expressed by a woman as simply a consequence of her menstrual cycle. If you’re female, chances are you’ve said something negative or gotten upset or angry and had a (again, probably male) friend say, “Are you just on your period or something?”

Honestly, there are few things more offensive than that. The idea that a woman has no legitimate, external reasons to ever be angry or upset–only the internal vicissitudes of her hormones–is preposterous.

Third, and most importantly, rants like these only reinforce the stereotype of women as crazy, overemotional beings controlled entirely by their hormonal cycles. People. Give us a bit more credit than that, please. And I understand that that’s difficult to do when women themselves are painting themselves that way.