Where to begin to respond to Rachel del Valle’s recent column in the DP entitled, “Oh, pretty woman”? How about saying that I really like how she opened the piece. Very nice.

Now, about this quote…

“Our country has a strange relationship with attractive women in spheres other than, say, pop music. The idea that certain industries, such as entertainment, are built upon the objectification of women seems to somehow make sense. We accept this ugly fact about beautiful people.”

… I agree — with the first sentence only. As a former DP columnist, I understand how limited a space we get to actually delve into issues, and I know that you know that this objectification doesn’t actually “make sense” in any kind of ethical context, so I’m gonna let that slide. But, “we accept this ugly fact about beautiful people”? No, no. We accept that fact about ourselves. We are the people feeding this industry, every single one of us. Even if we think we’re “above” pop music, we allow it to continue in its present sexist state. You can’t blame the people being objectified for this objectification.

And in the very next paragraph we have the example of Hillary Clinton. “Sure, should be admired for her diplomatic skills, not her haircut, but that doesn’t mean commenting on her updo trivializes her as a leader. Hillary, your femininity is showing.”

FIrst of all, Hillary Clinton is rarely singled out in the media for how she manages to do her job while presenting herself in a feminine manner. She is usually called out for not living up to our standards of what it means to be a professional woman, which implicitly includes an element of femininity. She should be competent and feminine.

But really, what’s the harm in complimenting an attractive woman in power for both her abilities and beauty? What could possibly be wrong with finding it necessary to slip in a comment on a person’s physical appearance while offering a stream of other wonderful compliments?

For one thing, it’s ridiculous to argue that men in power don’t care or think about their appearance. Sure, they might have less clothes options than women do, since the fashion and beauty industry haven’t decided to exploit male insecurity to the same scale they have with female insecurity, but professional men still have to pay attention to their hair, their suits, their shoes, their cufflinks, you name it. “The conventional idea of masculinity” can be just as “ostentatious” as femininity when you reflect upon it. Let’s think about the exorbitant amount that some men are willing to pay for designer cufflinks. The difference is that their “masculinity” in the workplace is not commented on. Plus, seriously, we can talk for hours about the expectations of masculinity which are also damaging to men in the workplace and elsewhere.

One line I really want to point out, for perhaps different reasons than they were written, is this: “Women shouldn’t have to downplay their looks in order to be taken seriously.”

Yes. YES. Exactly. Why do women have to be in the position where their looks are elevated to the same level as their talents? Why are we responsible, or made to feel responsible, for downplaying our looks as just another element of ourselves, so it doesn’t overshadow everything else?

So, seriously? We don’t think there’s anything wrong with commenting on a woman’s appearance like that’s actually relevant to her job? Like men face the same scrutiny? Like people feel as entitled to comment on men’s appearance, whether it be positively or negatively, as they seem to be about women?

Beyond all that, I’m getting seriously fed-up of people thinking that there is some attack on femininity in the workplace. I can understand arguments that point out that femininity is often degraded when matched against masculinity, as being inherently more vain, frivolous, or superficial. That’s a huge problem. And let’s make one thing clear, because this is something feminists get accused of a lot and I’m tired of hearing it. Feminists are against femininity. Feminine does not equal anti-feminist. Seriously, this shouldn’t even have to be emphasized but it is.

What many feminists are against is the idea that fundamentally female = feminine, that to be “real women,” we must embrace our femininity. Fuck that shit. Seriously. We aren’t allowed to tell another woman what she should embrace about her physical appearance like it’s a requirement for being a woman. Women are pushed to be feminine, when sometimes we just want to exist, in peace, without having to worry if we’ll be given the side-eye because we haven’t wore a skirt in weeks.

The pushing of femininity onto professional women is not a mute issue. It’s fine to want to look feminine and love that about your appearance. I just disagree with a system that causes participants on job search panels at this very school to recommend wearing a skirt suit to interviews because it gives a better impression. Especially when it was specifically mentioned that this was because the people doing the hiring are often older white (cisgendered) males, who tend to have a certain mental concept of what a professional woman should “look like.” Sure, the power suit of the 1980s is now criticized as an attempt to be “more like men” while rejecting femininity, but again this just begs the question, do I have to be feminine to be considered a “real woman?” And guess what, “femininity, in its many shades and expressions” is not “part of being a woman” for all women. I understand the attempt to broaden the concept of what being feminine means with the admission that it comes in different forms, but let’s be real, this is still what feminine means. This might be our current cultural default for women, but come on, this concept is constructed, and professional woman shouldn’t be made to feel that being feminine is necessary.

And another thing, almost nothing makes me more furious than someone saying “get over it.” Listen, just because you don’t care about something, doesn’t mean you get to dismiss the legitimacy of the issue, or its relevance to other people. If so many people are talking about it, maybe you should stop trying to shut them down and think about why you are so quick to dismiss them.

How about, we don’t call out a woman’s appearance when we’re in the context of anything work-related like it actually matters? How about we apply the same standard we do to man in the workplace? How about, sure, there are good looking women in politics and business and every other field and we acknowledge this by mentioning it as often as we do the good looking men in these same fields.

Finally, it’s FWord Friday! Ready for some articles?

Monica Torres explains her bitter internal conflict of majoring in English, “a language of conquest.” In this extremely thought-provoking piece she writes, “Language is a battleground, and I prefer to fight in the tongue with which I am best armed.”
Melissa Harris-Perry writes an extremely moving open letter to the Steubenville survivor that reminds us all of our own role in stopping sexual violence.
And this is important, because we keep seeing the story repeating itself, this time in Torrington, Connecticut, including the appalling bullying of the survivors.
And maybe we’re blinded by the success of our own university president, Amy Gutmann, but like just about every other high-level position out there, you’ve got to ask yourself, Why are there so few female college presidents?
And lastly, a blogger on Autostraddle breaks down a popular Spanish homophobic slur, writing that “n Mexico, it can be roughly pinpointed at the intersection between “gay person,” “bad person,” and “coward.””
Enjoy the weekend feministas!

In an article published online on Jezebel, Margaret Cho details her experience of discomfort and exclusion in a Korean women-only space. When Cho visits a Korean spa, she not only gets “heavy duty Korean woman stinkeye” and gets murmured about in Korean, but she gets singled out by a seemingly apologetic manager because her heavily tattooed body is apparently disturbing other customers.
What is so powerful about Cho’s article is her criticism of her own culture, even though it is an integral part of her. She writes that, “If anything, I understand Korean culture better than most, because I have had to fight against much of its homophobia, sexism, racism — all the while trying to maintain my fierce ethnic pride. I struggle with the language so that I can be better understood. I try to communicate my frustrations in Korean so that I can enhance my relationship with my identity, my family, my parents homeland.”
Cho might be a role model for the Asian American community but may lightning strike me if she isn’t one of the women I most strongly identify with.
How relatable is this sentiment to immigrant children of any background? How often do we feel conflicted between loving our culture and at the same time wanting to change its harmful aspects?
You might think that tattoos are an odd battle to pick in this context, and an odd lense to critique ones complicated relationship with ones own culture through. Even in the United States, tattoos are still viewed as frivolous as best, especially when seen on people of middle class and higher socioeconomic status, and demonized as a lower socioeconomic class identifier at worst. They are rarely respected for what they truly represent to their holder.

Cho’s gorgeous tattooed body is something I look forward to in the future. I may only have two tiny tattoos now, but in my mind I have 50 some odd ones planned out.
But acquiring these 50+ tattoos will be a prolonged battle. To my mother, tattoos are not just unattractive — they are dangerous. She worries how having visible tattoos could impact me in job searches. Plus, there is the added complication of the connotation between tattoos and violence in Guatemala, our native country. Tattoos are largely associated with gangs and seen as vulgar on women. In a country harshly impacted by gang violence, this is no small matter, and if, as I plan to, I ever end up working there, it’s something I’ll have to think about on a daily basis. This perception, like every other aspect of Guatemalan society, however, is changing, and I’ve witnessed an increase in people having tattoos, although they generally live in “good” enough zones to afford the luxury of safety.
But even if all these things must be taken into consideration in Guatemala, I echo Cho’s words, “This is America.” Tattoos are much more mainstream here, and I’ve seen enough professionals, including veterinarians, sporting them to actually worry about how they might damage my career aspirations.
But even beyond my current place of residency, accepting someone’s tattoos shouldn’t hinge on whether or not you feel more “American” or “Korean” or “Guatemalan.” Tattoos are not just someone’s personal aesthetic choice, they are often huge signifiers for the person.
Cho puts it beautifully. “My tattoos represent much of the pain and suffering I have endured. They are part of me, just like my scars, my fat, my eternal struggle with gravity. None of our bodies are ‘perfect’. We live in them. They aren’t supposed to be ‘perfect’. We are just us, perceived flaws and all. I am just only myself.”
My tattoos are my skin. My tattoos represent much more to me than you could ever know, and even when you ask what they mean know that you will never get the full story, because no one but me could ever truly “get” their full story.
Tattoos are not just a spur of the moment decision, their meaning does not have to be fully understood at the time of inking, nor is their meaning static. Tattoos can grow, both physically and in significance, throughout our lives.

My tattoos are one of my favorite physical things about myself. My tattoos are my skin. Know that when you ostracize us for our tattoos, you are ostracizing us for us, all parts of us.

The world of feminism is always buzzing. We’re here to distill it for you.
Check out our FWord Feminist digest below.
Oh look, it seems Tyga isn’t the only one under fire for his lyrics lately. TW: Rick Ross Thinks Rape Is a Punchline
A blogger’s opinion on why “even if the bill doesn’t pass,” it’s still “a win for the anti-choice crowd.”
So, vagina is still a dirty word huh? **Even when teaching sex ed.
Perhaps you’re looking for some #SafetyTipsForLadies for the weekend? (TW: Sexual Assault)
“Stop writing stupid, patronising bullshit articles telling us WHAT WE ALREADY KNOW. Plus. Half your tips are fucking stupid anyway. So, in response to the stupid Punch article, I decided to start tweeting my own ‘hot safety tips’, with the hashtag #SafetyTipsForLadies.” Read on.

And guys, other things have been happening while the Supreme Court has been hearing about Same-Sex Marriage.

Did we miss the story you’ve been talking about all week? Thoughts on any of the above articles? Share in the comments below!

There’s always so much going on in the world of Feminism. Can’t keep up with it all? We’ve got you covered.
Check out our FWord Feminist digest below.
Why the use of “they are our wives, our sisters, our daughters,” as a rhetorical device is problematic:

http://bellejarblog.wordpress.com/2013/03/18/i-am-not-your-wife-sister-or-daughter/

What does race have to do with feminism? A lot.

http://www.afropunk.com/profiles/blogs/what-does-race-have-to-do-with-feminism

And on the subject of race, you might have heard about a recent Philadelphia Magazine cover story called, “Being White in Philly.”
It was referenced in Rachel del Valle’s Tuesday DP opinion column:

http://www.thedp.com/article/2013/03/rachel-del-valle-whats-the-age-again

And has sparked several responses around the city.
From Al Día (a Philadelphia Latino bilingual newspaper) — written in English:

http://www.pontealdia.com/estados-unidos/being-other-in-philly.html

And from Axis Philly, trying to move forward:

http://axisphilly.org/article/moving-past-philly-mag/

Other interesting content you’d like to share? Thoughts on the above articles? Share in the comments below!

I am getting more and more tired of “No means No.”
Yes, No means No.
And you know what else?
Only Yes means Yes.
Consent is not implied. Consent is not assumed until proven otherwise.
Consent must be active. Consent must be clear. Consent must be enthusiastic.
Silence is not consent. Not fighting back is not consent. Not saying no is not consent.
In their blog post on the subject, SPARK Movement talks about the disturbing number of fellow partygoers, witnesses and potential interveners who stayed silent when they saw a drunk girl being publicly humiliated and disrespected by a group of boys.
As college students, it is likely that we have seen a variation on this story. We see someone who is clearly inebriated, stumbling, slurring, unable to hold a conversation, much less give consent. How many of these times have we stopped and made sure that person got home safely?
Would we be more likely to intervene if the person was surrounded by a group of people? If there was only one other person? If that person was alone? Why should it matter?
It shouldn’t, but it does.
It’s a sad fact, but when we fail to intervene in a situation we have a bad feeling about, we are letting our own discomfort stop us from potentially protecting someone.
We are letting our fear of being called “cockblockers” stop us from making sure a person is safe from sexual assault.
It should be considered a national embarrassment that the fear of being made fun of for making a mistake about sexual assault is greater than our fear of ignoring a potential sexual assault.
We live in a society where women are socialized to ensure their own safety, watch your drink, travel in groups, be careful what you wear or where you walk, instead of one in which people are socialized to look after one another. To not care about what you are called on a dark and sweaty dance floor.
To care more about the safety of another human than about your reputation.
As we rightfully call out the media’s disgraceful reporting on the Steubenville trial, as we petition to have them apologize for this treatment, let us not forget that these opinions aren’t held by news anchors and reporters alone. They are a reflection of our nation’s attitude towards rape, consent and social responsibility.
Stand in solidarity with sexual violence and assault survivors everywhere and call out harmful behavior in your daily lives. Stop your friend from making rape jokes, do not let rape ever be used in the same sentence as the word “funny” without the qualifier “NOT.”
Stop your classmate from engaging in victim-blaming. Do not let someone explain why a rape survivor should have “been more careful.” By saying that the survivor should have avoided the rape, instead of saying that we should have stopped the rape, we think we are saying that  rape could have been prevented. But what we are actually saying is that this rape could have been prevented — at the expense of the next girl who happened to have taken one too many shots of vodka.
As if drinking makes it okay to be raped. As if wearing a dress and high heels in the winter makes it okay to be raped. As if going to a frat party without a friend makes it okay to be raped. As if anyone is deserving of being raped if they don’t act “properly.”
Our language is powerful, our social interactions are powerful. We have more power to affect a change in our not so small corner of the universe than we think, and it’s time we start using it.
And let’s remember that No means No.
And Only Yes means Yes.