I've been enjoying designing yoga classes around different themes and ideas--like yoga for snow sports or my new "Yoga Outside the Box" series I will be offering at Shanti Yoga Studio in March--and finally got around to writing about one of my favorite themes, the 2016 Bangor Pride Festival theme, “Bye Bye Binary.”

The "Bye Bye Binary" theme inspired me to design a special yoga class on the subject of binaries--that tendency in our culture to think of everything as either/or. I offered this class to a group of people fairly new to yoga, many who attended my three previous weeks of gentle yoga classes, which gave a solid foundation in the basics of yoga. As I have been thinking about yoga and feminism, I was inspired to share my approach here and to expand it to other classes that I teach.

The ideas I write about here were woven together with movement designed to reinforce the ideas. The ideas are complex, but they can be broken down in classes to be more accessible and, like yoga, to be a life-long learning process.
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In my work in American studies and Women’s and Gender studies, binaries are unpacked. Things we think about as being opposite are complementary. They are not polar opposites, they are two sides of the same coin. However, our culture tends to value one side of that binary, giving it power over its subordinate. Men are considered superior to women. White is seen as preferable to black. Straight is normal; gay is wrong. We are often uncomfortable with ambiguity.

Yoga, which roughly means union, is the perfect prism for breaking apart the binaries that can hold us back from feeling whole and connected. Yoga comes with its own inherent binary: mind/body, though we might add “spirit” to break up that binary. And in our culture, the mind is seen as having control over the body. This control is seen as an ideal and this narrow idea shapes how people are valued in our culture. For instance, people who are overweight are seen as having a lack of self conrtol. Our bodies dictate many of our opportunities. Our mind is influenced by the contradictions of our culture, and our mind impacts the health and well-being of our bodies.

How often does our mind allow us to love our own body, to be at peace with our body? Yoga gives us tools to find that peace, and part of this is about letting go of our preconceived notions of the limits and possibilities of our bodies. Yoga gives us perspective; it connects us to our breath and helps us find our mental and physical edges. It gives us the literal and figurative space to stretch and expand. Our mind and our body work together.

There are other binaries that yoga can help us break, clear, or heal: male/female, man/woman, masculine/feminine. Gender is not an either/or choice as much as our culture would have us understand it as one, though this is changing. And while the tradition of yoga is also based on this gender binary, and many classes are dominated by women, yoga is not gender specific.

When we breathe consciously, we are practicing yoga. In yoga we can be warriors—the survivor, the fighter that needs no gender. We fight for our cause and for the people who cannot fight for themselves. Men can be more in touch with their emotions and more open to the power of the feminine. Any body can participate in the movements that comprise yoga. There are options and variations that meet us where we are at that moment.

In terms of sexuality, binaries of gay/straight, or even the binary of bisexual, fixes sexuality rather than recognizing the fluidity of sexual affection, attraction, and action. Yoga can help us learn to focus and connect; it raises our awareness of our body. There are many poses and ideas in yoga that are focused on fostering healthy sexuality. The second chakra is thought to regulate the mind and body aspects of sexuality. And energy knows no gender.

Yoga helps us to take care of our minds and our bodies, to not give too much of ourselves and to practice self-care and self-love. We can see the self as a part of something bigger, but also better sense the permeable boundary between us the and the wide universe that surrounds us—the endless universe that we can never know. We do not have to choose between one binary; we can choose among the limitless possibilities.

And if this all sounds too good to be true or too scary to try, I would have thought so once. Yoga is many things and not everything I describe here will be found by everyone who practices yoga or with every yoga experience. In fact, most yoga classes will not unveil the power of yoga to break binaries. Like everything else, knowledge, practice, and an open mind are some of the necessary tools to chips away at the binaries that define and confine us.
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[Side note on yoga and gender: As I noted in a previous blog, I attended a Kundalini yoga class at a conference where a popular yoga personality gave us an option to choose one particular hand mudra (position) if we were a woman and another if we were a man. This position was supposed to be held with intense breathing for an extended period of time while periodically chanting along with the music. I changed from one to the other periodically wondering what I would do if I were questioning or genderqueer. Through my movements I felt like I was balancing the masculine and feminine that work together, and I wished I had the knowledge to challenge the instructor. As it was, I probably interrupted the energy flow of our collective ecstasy. But, such rebellion in the face of gendered yoga experiences is important for breaking binaries.]

Last August I was contacted by a reporter from an Australian magazine writing about the rise of feminist fitness. First of all, how exciting is it to hear that feminism has been visible enough in fitness that it would inspire an article about the trend!? Of course, she is also from Australia, where this trend is a lot more visible. Many of the best sources on feminist fitness that I found while doing research for my book, Women and Fitness in American Culture, came from outside the U.S. But, a few weeks ago I was contacted by a writer from the Associated Press who covers fitness and she was working on a feminist fitness article as well. So, I guess rather than having this blog continue to sit in my inbox, I might as well put it out there! Below I include the Australian reporter's questions and my answers....
 
What role does feminism play in fitness?
Feminism can play several roles in fitness. A lot of times the role it plays is in thinking about women's strength. We might imagine that as women become physically stronger they will also become stronger in other spheres like politics. However, this is not exactly what I mean when I write about or think about feminist fitness. The direct correlation is not there. While women might feel more empowered through weight lifting and strength-building, just as many (if not more) women are afraid of getting too "bulky" and, thus, not being seen as feminine. Female athlete at the top of their sports even struggle with this fear. So the biggest role that feminism can play in fitness is to say that being healthy, happy, fit, strong, etc. can be achieved through any variety of fitness activities. Fitness isn't one thing, but it is feminist when it is about a whole body and whole person approach.
 
Has there been a shift away from the "bikini body" towards female empowerment in the fitness industry?
I'd like to say that there has been this shift, and perhaps if we think about it in terms of the fitness industry, then, yes, I'd say there is a shift from the "bikini body" to the strong, functional body--the kind of body that can run marathons or compete in Ninja Warrior-style competitions. But, at the same time, female empowerment is often sold as a part of a package of physical perfection. In terms of the images that promote fitness--in the industry and in pop culture and media more generally--I don't think we are there yet in terms of empowerment being more important than the "bikini body." We are still fed the correlation that strong (but not "big") is desirable and the bodies we see take a lot of time, effort, attention, and energy to maintain. When we see fitness as more of a way of life and less as a set of accomplishments, then we will be making this shift.
 
Why are we seeing a rise in feminist fitness bloggers and personal trainers?
There is a need for feminist fitness--in our fitness culture and in our personal lives. I think that women (and even men) can use the principles of feminism to take focus off of the superficial aspects of fitness and focus in on what is really meaningful and powerful. For instance, I've noticed a rise in blogs about being a mom and being a runner. Women are able to focus on the things that their bodies can do rather than the impossible standards that the media set. So we see a rise in bloggers who share their personal struggles and frustrations as well as their successes. We also see a rise in women of color and "fat" women claiming space and recognition in the world of fitness. Feminism makes spaces for marginalized voices and experiences.
 
And feminist approaches to personal training can really revolutionize this sphere of fitness. Personal training is much more about building a relationship and trust between client and trainer. A trainer who listens to her client, who understands the client's fitness goals, who looks for a variety of activities that are enjoyable to the client, who instills realistic expectations and works to dispel fitness myths is going to be more successful than a trainer who sets out a program of repetitions and then pushes the client through these exercises toward a goal of weight loss, for instance.
 
Why is fitness a feminist issue?
Fitness is a feminist issue for so many reasons. Fitness is just one of the many activities that is represented in the media in narrow, stereotypical kinds of ways. Feminism challenges such representations. Fitness is about taking care of ourselves, but also taking care of the people we love and the world that we live in. We have to practice the feminist idea of self-care in order to be able to do this. If we want to eat healthy, organic foods then we need to be working to ensure that these foods are available and affordable. This means we need to think about climate change and agribusiness. If we want comfortable, affordable clothing and shoes for our workouts, then we need to be sure that women in other parts of the world are not being exploited to produce those goods for the first world. If we want women's bodies and minds to be safe from rape, sexual assault, and other forms of patriarchal violence, then we need to work to change the standards and expectations of masculinity. Fitness is not just an isolated, individualistic pursuit bolstered by privilege; it is a responsibility to ourselves and to the world.
 
Would you like to see more feminism in fitness?
Absolutely! I would love to stop hearing women say that they are too fat, too skinny, too whatever. I'd love for men to be more comfortable and willing to take group fitness classes or to try yoga--to not be afraid of being seen as less than a man because they enjoy Zumba or yoga. I would love to see people embracing fitness because it makes them feel good and makes them able to enjoy other aspects of their lives more fully. I would love to see women stop shaming other women about their bodies and to see us all stop equating fitness with superficial qualities and outward appearance. I would love to see people use the word feminist when they talk about fitness. But even if they don't use the word, the principles are there and they are transforming fitness for many people, just as feminism has transformed the world we live in.

“Fire is catching! And if we burn, you burn with us!”
—Katniss in Mockingjay

“And it would do nothing at all. It would change nothing at all. It would move no one at all, and so it really wouldn’t be art, would it?”
—June in The Summer Prince

“We were going to change how people think…. You can’t transform a society with violence, Ashala. Only with ideas.”
—Ember in The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf

American dystopia is a long-standing tradition, and Trump’s appearance on the scene of American politics has inspired many references to dystopia (like on The Daily Show with Trevor Noah and in liberal campaigns). But we have long been a dystopia in the United States, and many brilliant authors have shed light on this quality from a variety of angles. War, apocalypse, unchecked technology, disease, climate change, natural disaster, invasion, slavery, violence, reproductive slavery, sexual violence, decimation, devastation.

When we talk about American dystopia today, we talk about George Orwell. We talk about the classics. We talk about men and power and the end of the world. And Margaret Atwood’s A Handmaid’s Tale is back on the bestseller list and being made into a television series in Trump’s dystopia. We need to look to other stories as well. We need to tell more stories.

The major issues of our times point toward a country, and a world, that we can find in the books of Octavia Butler, Suzanne Collins, Sherri L. Smith, Ambelin Kwaymullina, and Alaya Dawn Johnson. Many “Girls on Fire” tell us stories that speak to intersectional futures—to multifaceted ideas, people, and movements and to the possibilities of change in many possible futures.
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This collection seeks critical and creative explorations of dystopia: short stories, essays, graphic art, interviews, poems, testimonials, or any format that uses dystopia as a means for understanding the present moment. This collection seeks the stories, the images, the ideas and ideals of “Girls on Fire”—to inspire hope, vision, and action through the power of dystopic visions. To get us all through the fear, disappointment, anger, and anxiety.

Tell a compelling story that sheds light on our present moment and inspires us to work for a better future. Write a scathing commentary that exposes the problems of the present and the possibilities of the future. Capture a moment, an image that speaks to today’s dystopia. Imagine a manifesto, a moment, a movement. Create an image that moves us and makes us think. Use your arts—your mind and your heart and your skills and your training—to speak back to the present through the lens of tomorrow.

Imagine what the future of America looks like—30 days, 4 years, or several decades or centuries into the future. How has Trump’s reign shaped our cities, the country, the world? How have we been divided; how have we been united? What is the state of the climate, our social and cultural institutions? What dystopic future grows from the present moment? What challenges do people face? Where is there hope? What are Girls on Fire making from this future?

This collection is intended as a sort of companion piece to (working title): Girls on Fire: American Dystopia and Intersectional Futures, Sarah Hentges’ forthcoming book from McFarland Publishing, Inc. This book explores the ways in which young adult dystopian texts with female protagonists can inspire social justice. It considers foundations and possibilities. It looks to “Girls on Fire”—in fiction, and in life—to lead the way to a better future.

See http://www.cultureandmovement.com/ya-dystopia.html for more information about Girls on Fire: American Dystopia and Intersectional Futures

pdf call for submissions
5,000 words maximum. Images should be high quality.
Inquiries and ideas can be emailed to sarah.hentges@maine.edu
Submit to: sarahdwh8@gmail.com by January 20, 2018

One of the things that I teach in my Introduction to Women’s Studies course is that it is too easy to blame men or patriarchy for the inequalities and oppressions that continue to plague women. It’s always more complicated. And, yes, these inequalities and oppressions continue to exist in subtle and not-so-subtle ways, especially when there are more vectors of inequality (race, sexuality, class) at play. But, again, this is where things get more complicated.

We also talk about the importance of supporting women, of refusing to compete with other women for the attention and approval of men, of supporting other women who experience sexism, misogyny, and oppression. Many of the women of my generation, and many women the age of my mother or grandmother, find it important to mentor younger women. We try to model feminism in our words and actions and provide opportunities for younger women—our students, allies, friends, and families—to explore, excel, and act on their own behalf and toward social justice for others.

But another thing that we discuss is how women can uphold the values of patriarchy, even without realizing it. Even when espousing feminism. Even when trying to do the right thing by other women. Gloria Steinem's gender-infused support might have inexorably hurt Hillary Clinton’s bid for candidacy. But Hillary will survive. In cases closer to home, the damage may not be so easy to overcome. But it gives us more fuel to fight.

This brings me to a current and ongoing example of the ways in which women—whether we identify with and use the term feminist or not—can do more harm than good when we try to help younger women, when we try to make decisions in someone else’s best interest. There is a difference between being supportive or being an advocate and acting in a paternalistic way. Some women--even when they have good intentions--fail to see the difference.

Last semester a student came to me during finals week to discuss some of the work she owed me and ended up reporting how she was being sexually harassed at her place of work. The harassment had been ongoing and had escalated from comments about other women’s bodies, to outright propositions for sex, to unwanted touching. She had waited too long to report the sexual harassment, which had been going on for months. I told her she should report it immediately. Since the employee who was harassing her was leaving for another job, she decided not to report it. I respected her decision, but—in retrospect—I regret that I did not convince her to report the abuse regardless.

This student prides herself on being open and honest—on supporting other women and on being true to herself. After a lifetime of abuse, she deserves to have the space and time to find herself. That’s one of the reasons why she is attending college, majoring in Interdisciplinary studies, and working as the student intern for our Women Invigorating Curriculum and Creating Diversity committee. She advocates for herself and other women on a daily basis. She has been there for friends and for other students as they have dealt with abuse, stalking, and violence. But she also needs to work off-campus to support herself and pay for her education. She has learned a lot about herself over the past four years and is less naïve and sheltered than she was when she began college.

This student is also conventionally attractive and uber-friendly. She often dresses in short skirts, tight shirts, high heels, and a variety of fashionable ensembles. She wears a lot of make-up and puts a lot of time into her hair and outfits. She stands by her right to dress in the way that makes her feel comfortable even though she has also had to deal with other people’s inability to honor that right. Professors have asked me to talk to her about the way she dresses, to remind her that she is sending the “wrong message.” And her employer has attributed her appearance to the ways in which men act around her, flocking to the front desk and lingering to talk to her. She is regularly sexually harassed. In fact, it is a kind of a norm in her life. For instance, when her friends (and she has many male and female friends) found out that she had broken up with her boyfriend, she got several “dic pics” and an erotic story sent to her in a matter of a few days. She is regularly approached by men who want to give her things or take her on dates. She is still learning that these offers are not always what they seem at face value.

So, when she began to experience sexual harassment that went beyond playful banter (that she admits engaging in sometimes), it was difficult to identify it as something more sinister. Further, since this harassment often happened when she worked alone with her male co-worker and when the management staff had already gone home, she was isolated and rendered powerless and fearful. And, since this employee harassing her was widely liked and praised by many co-workers and patrons, she thought that she would not be believed.

But the biggest reason that she did not immediately come forward has to do with a previous incident at work, when she was shamed for her too-friendly behavior (which is her job) and blamed for the ways in which male co-workers and patrons treated her. This shaming and blaming was done in a way that couched the criticism as a “life lesson.” The female head of the company actually blamed her for potentially breaking up marriages and asked her to be less friendly and to leave the desk when certain male patrons entered the building. In other words, it is the same story told time and time again—blaming the woman for men’s uncontrollable sexuality.

She could recognize the problematics of this shaming and blaming. Not only was this “lesson” from the management sexist and discriminatory, it was something that she had heard before. So, it was no wonder that when she began to be sexually harassed, she brushed it off. The sexual harassment often took place in front of other employees who did not recognize the harassment as problematic. More than one employee had overheard him making comments about wanting to “tap that” when referring to women patrons. More than one employee had been harassed.

But then he decided to stay with the company and the head of the company sent an email to all employees praising him for his superior customer service skills, hinting at a promotion and raise, and referring to his bright future at the company.  And, so, this victim really had no choice but to come forward. In fact, I also work for this organization and I ended up reporting it to our shared supervisor during my performance review along with a sexual harassment incident I had experienced. Let's just say, things did not go so well and I have been working to support this student and to give her opportunities to tell her story and to fight for her rights. Her story is long from over.

The story from this point is long and more complicated than I can capture here. It is a universal story of women’s experiences that has been told a million times in all of its iterations, and it is a story that will continue to be told. The outcome (for now) boils down to the “he said/she said” situation of so many stories like this. The outcome was not immediate termination of the sexual harasser despite the fact that Maine is an at-will state and the fact that the employee had violated multiple workplace policies. This was the only acceptable outcome. Instead, schedules were rearranged, sexual harassment training was implemented, and she was expected to just get over it.

While (female) management claimed to believe her in private conversations, and while they sanctioned him and punished him, the official written response from the head of the company is that they did everything that they could possibly do, but also explicitly states that they are not admitting that any harassment took place. In fact, in private conversations management revealed that the reason that they did not fire him was because they wanted to protect her. He had threatened to sue her for defamation of character if he was fired. The “HR lawyer” said that she would be crucified in court, and they decided that she was “too fragile” to deal with something like that. Never mind that such cases (usually reserved for public figures) are difficult to prove and take substantial investment up front. The decision was made for her and she was left in the dark.

Further, her privacy was not protected; they said they were legally obligated to tell him who reported the claim of sexual harassment. When she tried to stand up for herself and requested a written statement of the information she was legally entitled to, her request was ignored. Instead she was pulled into a meeting where the head of the company tried to justify her actions while continuing to shame and blame. When the written statement finally followed, it was incomplete at best.

The process that was followed is symptomatic of our patriarchal culture. And it has been questioned and will most likely be questioned again. But the point here is that on at least two occasions a woman, claiming and believing that she was acting on the behalf of a younger woman, supporting her and teaching her life lessons, was really acting in the interest of the company, of patriarchy, and—as the head of the company who had praised and promoted the harasser—for herself.

There is no easy answer or solution to this situation and others like it, but when we work to support other women (especially the younger women we wish to mentor) we need to remember that we are fostering their voices, empowering their actions, and providing opportunities for growth and empowerment—and, ultimately, we cannot control the outcome any more than the playing field. We can fight for justice side by side, but need to let them speak for themselves, find their own paths, and wage their own battles. We need to get over ourselves, our experience, our earned positions and our honed expertise—and remember that this thing that holds us down is bigger than we are, and we are stronger together.

Rachel Hills, The Sex Myth:
The Gap Between Our Fantasies and Reality

As a part of my personal/professional reckoning sexuality project, I will be sharing some thoughts on the books I am exploring. While I read this one a while ago, the author will be on our campuses this week, so I thought it was about time to share this blog!

The title of this book does not really represent what this book is about. The use of “the” to describe “sex myth” gives the impression that there is only one myth involved here when there are many myths that contribute to skewed understanding of the myths and realities. Further, the implication that we have multiple, plural fantasies, but only one, singular reality limits the possibilities of closing that gap. And, really, this book is about reality much more than it is about fantasy.

The title should be something more like: "How the Millennial Generation Navigates Hypocrisy and Hypersexualization." The “Our” in the title is most definitely interchangeable for Millennials generally, and Americans, Europeans, Australians, white, middle class, etc. specifically. But the book also provides diverse voices and works to represent sexuality beyond the heterosexual paradigm.

I consider this book a light, introductory read that shines light on a subject that is much deeper, more complicated, and embedded in a number of cultural institutions, ideologies, and practices. The author relates her own experiences and others’ experiences without judgment. She argues for a culture where sexuality “can be just one small part of the puzzle of who each of us is, instead of the load that defines us." She illustrates the ways in which young people define themselves through their sexuality, which is hindered by "the Sex Myth."

It is an interesting read, and the argument is valuable. This cross-cultural exploration of sexual myths, shows how the dominant ideologies of the white/Western world shape cultural norms and acceptable thoughts and behaviors. The anecdotal evidence that crosses several continents can only be so representative of the bigger picture. And yet, the stories are honest and genuine and the message of freedom is clear.

In my personal/professional project, this book gave me space to reflect upon what might have been different for me if I was coming of age today (and it had some interesting connections to my YA dystopia work and to my introduction to women's studies course). It reminded me just how sheltered I grew up and just how fucked up my sense of self and sexuality is. Sometimes I lament the openness and options that youth have today compared to the silence and assumptions of my youth. If I were coming of age today, would I feel more comfortable being open and honest with myself as well as with the world? Maybe. But today’s sexual environment is fraught with just as many roadblocks and potholes, they are just more varied and more menacing… and more potentially liberating.

Hills’ message seems to be more about the right to choose to not live up to the sexual hype and to be ourselves. How we should work collectively to change the limited structures of sexuality is offered a more passive solution. Her final paragraph proclaims: “It is we who are responsible for creating the future. We are creating it already, in the things we say, do, and choose to believe. The Sex Myth may be powerful, but we have the ability to dismantle it. You just need to cast off the stories and the symbolism, and let yourself be” (214). The shift from the collective voice of “we” to the individual voice of “you” might give the impression that making individual lifestyle (or ideological) changes is enough to “dismantle” the Sex Myth.

Choosing and enacting personal freedom is a start. We have to understand sexuality personally, politically, physically, mentally, and we can only begin to understand and rework our old ideas when new paradigms are available and accessible. Rachel Hills’ book helps us take steps in that direction, but we need far more tools in our toolbox.

This is an open letter to those who witnessed him sexually harassing me and did nothing. This letter is also for those who I reported it to--who said they believed me, that they understood, that they wanted him fired--but ultimately could not do what justice called for. Most importantly, this is for my sexual harasser. I was violated. I never consented to your treatment of me. You took advantage of me. May you read this letter and know that I will not cater to a system of silence. May the others who witnessed some of your unsettling behavior, but accepted it as normal, also read this letter and wonder what they could have done differently. I will tell my story to my students, loved ones, to strangers--and to the future victims of sexual harassment--so they can learn and grow as I have done. I will fight a system that does not care for the truth.

Asking "Sister, are you okay?" to someone you see getting harassed, is an empowering thing. Not only are you letting her know that what happened is wrong, but you are standing with her so she is not alone in a culture that accepts harassment as a part of the norm and just part of "boys being boys." You treat her as if she is family because she is. As fellow human beings some of the most important things we must do in our lifetime are to spread love, safety, and equality for everyone. When the law is broken and she is sexually harassed, stand beside her, show her kindness, and treat her like she is your sister for she is not a sex object to be played with at will. When you see a fellow human kicked to the ground, too afraid to get back up, would you leave her there in pain or would you risk injury to yourself to help her stand? She is not a possession. Her body belongs to no one but herself. Being there for her reminds her that she is strong, that she is a survivor.

After suffering a lifetime of abuse, I thought I was finally free to find peace in all areas of my life. I pride myself on being open and honest--on being me. Naïve and taught to trust everyone, I have encountered more and more trauma. Still finding my way through the cruel reality I was surrounded by, I met you. And upon learning about my past, that I was a survivor of abuse, you took advantage of me. You said all the right, comforting things so I would trust you. You saw how vulnerable I was and tried to fuck with me. You would watch my body as I walked. Your eyes would linger and grow heavy with want. Mouth agape, you’d lick your lips and ask to have a taste of what belonged to me. For hours you’d sit in your chair and talk about what you thought was an object born for your personal pleasure and would beg me to go with you to your car so you could take advantage of this body you thought belonged to you. “No,” I said turning my body away from you in embarrassment, and yet you persisted. You pushed.

You took up more space. You stood behind me and would whisper in my ear your desires. I could feel your hot breath on my neck, rolling down my spine, forcing me to shrink under the weight your words carried. Shrinking further and further into myself as you peered down at me, fear consumed and immobilized me. Fear that echoed from my past abusers and fear of you. I twirled the ring on my finger in hopes of calming down so you wouldn’t see me cry. In the safety of my car I wept. I wept because my trust was broken yet again and I had more to fear than just my past.

I became afraid to walk to my car at night because you might be waiting for me. Afraid to come to work because sometimes you’d treat me like the friend I trusted, and other days you’d act like a hunter slaughtering a deer with your wanting eyes ripping into my clothes to reveal the flesh you craved. It wasn’t long before you began brushing up against me so your hand would graze my ass and you could drink the spoils of your demeaning behavior and abuse of power. Paralyzed with fear, I did nothing. I made excuses for you. I made excuses for myself. Since you were leaving the company we worked for, I thought your leaving would make me feel safe again. I thought it would be easy to just let you go, to let my fear and insecurity leave with you. To my astonishment and disappointment, you changed your mind and decided to stay.

To the one teacher who stood by me and protected my rights to the best of her ability, thank you. You sought justice where others fell silent. You found legal help for me when others wanted me to keep quiet and accept the lack of action taken because it is a “he said/she said situation.” You reported his illegal actions and encouraged me to put my fears aside and come forward. You asked, “Sister, are you okay?” You found my strength and taught me lessons I never learned in a classroom. You taught me self-care and how to build the walls necessary to keep evil like my sexual harasser’s out. With each new brick to this wall I could feel the foundations of empowerment form.

Out of dread that he would treat my fellow coworkers with the same disrespect, I stood up to fight his perversion, but I was not alone. We stood together and created an unbreakable force. There has been no real resolution--no justice--but we are fighting this battle for all women who will encounter this man and others like him. I take part in an effort to create a world where we are all free from oppression, harassment, and coercion. To those who are suffering, I am here. I am with you. I am listening. I am fighting. We are not helpless victims who must shrink in fear. We stand together. Together we can reach out to all of those who are oppressed and seek a better world.

To my sexual harasser, apparently I need to make this clear as you have yet to grasp the meaning of consent. This is my body. My body belongs to me. My body is sacred and you have no excuses for your behavior. The system has made excuses for you. The system has blamed me because that is what it does to women. It has tried to take away my voice. I’ve had enough abuses and pain. I stand to stop the internal screams. You can’t touch me anymore.

My sisters stand strong with me.

--Jessica L. Bishop

I meant to write this blog some time ago, inspired when Be Steadwell (B Steady) performed at UMA in connection with my Hip Hop class and sponsored by our Women Invigorating Curriculum committee and a Presidential minigrant. I have so many passions that it can be difficult to balance them all, and Hip Hop is one of those passions that is a common thread through all I do.

In the academic classroom, across disciplines, I use Hip Hop to talk about all kinds of issues from poverty to power to portrayals of women. In my fitness classes I use Hip Hop to inspire movement including two of my favorite Hip Hop yoga tracks: "Yoga Mat" by Stic Man and anything by MC Yogi. Hip Hop was what inspired me to dance outside the fitness box when I combined it with belly dancing.

But Be Steady's performance reminds me how important it is to promote women in Hip Hop by sharing knowledge of artists who don't get noticed in the narrow halls of mainstream Hip Hop. A recent interview with a graduate student working on a Master's thesis about women in Hip Hop rekindled my desire to share a few artists and observations about women and Hip Hop. But first things first...

Nicki Minaj and Monsters in the Mainstream

Whenever I teach about Hip Hop, students often argue adamantly that Nicki Minaj is an "empowered" female rapper, and she is often the only example, besides Beyoncé and Rihanna, students can cite. I am not here to argue that Minaj is or is not empowered (especially since empowered can mean many different things); instead, I want to use her as an example of the problems with mainstream American culture and Hip Hop culture. It is no secret that the few women who have found marginal success are conventionally attractive and often use sex to sell themselves and their work (like American culture demands as much as Hip Hop does). My students overwhelmingly cite Nicki Minaj as "proof" that women can succeed in Hip Hop. Many of my students find her to be "strong" or "successful" or "powerful."

Even in a song like "Monster" (Kanye West featuring Jay-Z, Bon Iver, and Rick Ross as well as Minaj), a song that is blatantly misogynistic and highly disturbing, she is seen as holding her own and being empowered. I even had a student post a video on a social media site with only the verse that Minaj contributes and with a very long analysis of the empowering lyrics supported by the image of Minaj's split personalities. When I asked her to contextualize her analysis within the song as a whole, she declined because she didn't think that the bigger context (a video where the only other women are dead, hanging from meat hooks and being dragged around or used sexually) really mattered because of how "empowered" Minaj was in this one part of the song. Later, when her mother asked her not to post such disturbing things because grandma might see, the student removed her post.

Women who want to achieve mainstream success also have to fit stereotypes and so sexual confidence can be exploited just as much as sexual exploitation. For instance, when Nicki Minaj adds her voice to songs by popular male artists, many women see this as positive. They see her as empowered, as playing the game with the big boys, as holding her own. But this empowerment is all in a context where she has to play their game to find a place for herself. For instance, as I was writing this I came across an article where a quote, "I have bigger balls than the boys" is featured in the headline. If the headline doesn't say it all, then the tagline does: "She has a body like Marilyn and a mouth like Eminem. No wonder Nicki Minaj is the hottest female rapper in the world." No matter how big her balls, she will only ever be a female rapper.

Female artists who play this game gain success. Those who don't will stay at the margins or will achieve success only in limited and limiting ways. So, maybe it is actually a positive that women don't gain mainstream success. Maybe this means that female artists aren't willing to play a game that makes them a victim, a margin, a window dressing, a receptacle. Because Hip Hop is a powerful and empowering art form, because it is a form of social and cultural criticism, because it gives voice to the voiceless, maybe mainstream success is not what female rappers should waste their time trying to achieve. Women rappers are already challenging mainstream conventions by their mere existence; their messages do so even more. Women with a voice, women of color with a voice, are a real threat to mainstream America. So, I share these examples because they shatter mainstream perceptions of women in Hip Hop.

Angel Haze

A student in my classes introduced me to Angel Haze. Her covers of "Same Love" and "Cleaning Out My Closet" take two popular and iconic songs and twist these songs to meet her experience as a black, pansexual female artist. Certainly the mainstream success of "Same Love" has exposed many people to Angel Haze since someone who is searching for Macklemore's song will inevitably find Angel Haze's version. This provides opportunities to educate--in and out of the classroom. When I show students Angel Haze's version of "Same Love," most remark that it is more real, more meaningful then the original. But, the original exploded Macklemore's career for a variety of reasons that speak to the politics of the mainstream. He is white and not gay, so the song is safer and can have "anthem" status. When Angel Haze adds her story to his message, she is exposing the limitations of the mainstream. Her identity, sexuality, and experiences with oppression are in the forefront, amplified with her talent for words.

Mainstream America is not ready for Angel Haze, and yet she recently recorded the theme song for the film 22 Jump Street. Another contradiction--this recording features Ludacris, lending it mainstream validity. In this song, she is singing for most of the song, and when she does rap she is rapping about the film's characters. She isn't seen anywhere in the videos I found for the song and no one listening would guess that she was anything but a "lesser" Nicki Manaj. So, again, mainstream success is limited. But it might be a start!

Invincible

This picture of Invincible is a powerful statement about women in Hip Hop as well as queer women. When I first saw this picture, it brought tears to my eyes. I bought Invincible's Shapeshifters album, a title that is exactly in line with my passions for flexibility, interdisciplinarity, and transformation. "Shapeshifters" and "Sledgehammer" are my two favorite tracks and I use them in academic and fitness spaces often. Invincible opens "Shapeshifter" with: "Music's not a mirror that reflects reality/ it's a hammer/with which we shape it." Taking this popular revolutionary phrase and adapting it to her purpose speaks to the power we have to shape culture if not also reality.

Her politics are clear through her lyrics, but more so through her community activism and the larger picture of the projects in which she collaborates. A co-founder of Emergence Media, she produces her own music as well as videos about topics like women in Hip Hop and gentrification in Detroit. She's also involved with Detroit Summer, "a multi-racial, inter-generational collective in Detroit that is transforming communities through youth facilitative leadership, creativity and collective action" and other such social justice work. Her music plus her activism only strengthens the hammer.

Eekwol

I don't remember how I came across Eekwol, an indigenous artist whose songs speak to experiences of colonization, violence, and freedom. Her songs "Too Sick" and "I Will Not Be Conquered" provide perspectives that "represent the truth." As her ReverbNation profile notes, "she holds a lifelong background of Plains Cree Indigenous music and culture, and invites the audience into a space of experimental hip hop unique to her land and place while respecting the origins of hip hop." Eekwol's work raises consciousness and connects communities.

She also speaks to the roles of women in mainstream Hip Hop in this interview/video that was created as a part of a seminar/presentation and a teaching tool for use in high schools. In educational settings, these artists can be used to make connections to our communities as much as they can be used to raise individual students' consciousness. Artists like Eekwol and Invincible combine art and politics in powerful ways.

Be Steady

Which leads me full circle to Be Steady, an artist I discovered via Words Beats & Life. I started watching her videos and songs and fell in love with her. I didn't really imagine that I would be able to bring her to UMA to perform. I was almost surprised when I booked her so easily. At first she seemed shy and humble, so when she started singing, and her voice filled our little event room, I was speechless. The first few minutes of her performance and her first song "Worthy," hooked the audience. (Fast forward a couple of minutes through my awkward intro and movement of the camera!) I often play this haunting song over and over.

From there, the performance unfolded with songs combined with commentary about her music--the art and the subject matter. She fielded questions from the audience and wove her answers into her performance. She addressed everything I hoped she would address--including questions of identity and sexuality. (Click here for part two of Be's performance). My students were so energized by her visit and shared her music with other students and through social media. Be Steadwell was an amazing performer, but because she was a down-to-earth person, her work reached students even more. Will she gain mainstream success writing songs about her love for girls? Probably not. Will her fans continue to love her music? Will she continue to evolve as an artist, to connect communities, and inspire people? Outside the mainstream, such growth and transformation are possible.

Hip Hop cannot be contained by the mainstream as much as mainstream representations limit what people know about Hip Hop. Our heroes circulate in different spaces. None of these women have messages that mesh with mainstream American expectations let alone the narrow confines of women and Hip Hop. But they are changing Hip Hop as much as their work is transforming minds and lives. All we have to do is listen... and pass it on.

Whenever I finish a project, when what I've written/birthed/sweated out goes off to the publisher, I start to find more sources that would be "perfect." I lament not finding them before I was finished even though I could not have included another source. In fact, the last of my writing process for my last book--and most things I write--is cutting out the excess, polishing the product.
 
There was a lot to cut from Women and Fitness in American Culture. It went through many incarnations and there was so much "perfect" evidence. But that doesn't mean that there weren't sources that would have been helpful, insightful, even key to the crux of my argument. The fact that there are always more examples to add to the mix speaks to the flexibility of interdisciplinary studies as well as the subject at hand.
 
Red Nails, Black Skates: Gender, Cash, and Pleasure On and Off the Ice is a book I not only highly recommend, but also wish I would have discovered before my book was written--for my own personal and professional reasons.
 
It is really quite ridiculous that I did not discover this book during my extended research process. In fact, as I scratch at the reaches of my brain, I am pretty sure that I clicked right past it. At one point I decided that I needed to narrow my scope of research, to only tangentially consider "sport." I wanted to consider sport mostly as it stood in for "fitness," as it narrows the overall quality of fitness to an athletic/competitive activity that relies upon the mastering of a set of specific skills. I remember scrolling by thinking "skating" is not "fitness." And it's not, but I didn't imagine at the time just how relevant skating is, at least in the context of Rand's work.

Since author, Erica Rand, is practically my neighbor and is a friend of a colleague of mine, and since I am pretty sure said colleague mentioned this book to me at one point, it is simply a travesty that I did not pick it up. Her arguments about pleasure, social justice, and queer bodies and queer approaches and spaces would have been helpful to round out some of my less developed arguments. For instance, while I write about the term "pleasure" scaring away participants, Rand boldly writes a whole chapter on the connection of skating and pleasure titled, "Skating Is Like Sex, Except When It Isn't" and in the first paragraph she proceeds to provide the best definition/description of sex I have ever read:

        For me, skating is a lot like sex. It's at once hot, intense, smooth, and sweet. It involves control, in ways that mix taking         and yielding it. It's rhythmic, you can improve with practice, little things can make all the difference, it can feel like flying,         and when it really works it's intensely in-body and out-of-body at the same time (46).

While I apologize, Rand embraces.

But the biggest reason I lament my oversight is that Erica Rand's book is so much like mine at the same time that it is so different from mine. It would have been helpful to have her book in a kind of role model/mentor kind of way. So many things that I was afraid to do with my book--tell my story (even the personal details), use myself as a research subject, put my body on display beside the product of my brain--Rand does with confidence, poise, and insight. She owns her work in a way that I want to own my work.
 
Even the structure/approach of my work has similarities to Rand's book. When I read her "Introduction: Skate to Write, Write to Skate," I felt like we had parallel projects. The thoughtful subtitles, the process laid bare, the personal narrative, the connection between the spheres of academia and physical embodiment/engagement, and the desire to reach audiences beyond academia, are all qualities that our work shares. She lays it out with confidence.
 
I lay it out with trepidation--a different language, a less-definable subject (skating is more concrete, fitness is diverse and abstract), an exploratory method, a distilling of theory, a weaving of less defined voices and more abstract ideas. I am still in the process of understanding how to do critical interdisciplinary work; and interdisciplinary theory and methodology will be one of my next research projects.

But, ultimately, for both of our works, transformation is the impetus. In conclusion Rand writes about "the principle of ethical fieldwork: Don't take from communities you study without giving back" (261). This is a principle that is embodied in my dual spheres of fitness and academia; for both of us, "fieldwork" is also life. She also reminds me that "there is not one single way to effect change ... in the rink only" or "to participate in anti-oppression struggles across categories of race, gender, sexuality, economics, and nation" (261). Academia and activism, pleasure and politics do not have to be binaries.
 
Our endings are even similar. She notes, "we need to get out there and do the work. And still, then again . . ." (261), while I note "if we are willing to do the work(out)." But neither of us can let that be the last word. I turn to final relaxation/rejuvenation. She turns to correcting a myth (that I perpetuate)--that Emma Goldman never actually said: "If I can't dance, I don't want to be in your revolution." But, Rand argues, she did express this sentiment. And to this sentiment, Rand adds, "And sparkle."
 
Next installment of additions and reconsiderations: Hanne Blank, The Unapologetic Fat Girl's Guide to Exercise: And Other Incendiary Acts.

Academic conferences are often difficult experiences for me. As a shy introvert, it is difficult to make connections, even with people I already know. It's also simultaneously intimidating and inspiring to see all of the amazing work being done in and around the fields I work in--American studies and Women's, Gender, and Sexuality studies. Inspiration is especially the case with the National Women's Studies Association conference, which I attended this past weekend in Cincinnati; these women are amazing.

I always learn so much at this conference, and it provides a number of opportunities that other academic conferences don't offer. For instance, the contributions by graduate students, and even undergraduate students, at this conference are welcome and encouraged. Simultaneously, the "big names" in women's and gender studies are accessible and approachable. There are certainly things that NWSA could do better, many of which are the usual weaknesses of academic spaces, but NWSA will continue to be my favorite conference. Here I'll share a few highlights (and see my related blog about Fitness at NWSA).

Women Everywhere. As one might imagine, the NWSA is attended by mostly women. There are certainly some men there, and they are as welcome as anyone else. And there is a diversity of people generally--women of all sizes, shapes, colors, sexual orientations, national and international origins, younger and older. It is inspiring simply to share the space with so many women. There are few other spaces where you can walk through crowds, make eye contact and smile, maybe even chat with someone you don't know. (In fact, after an embarrassing cash mishap at the airport, I hitched a ride with a couple of faculty members from Rutgers who welcomed me into their cab and trusted me to pay them back later.)

Workshops and Roundtables. While many conferences include alternate formats to the "talking head" presentation, NWSA does this particularly well. In fact, I walked out of a more traditional panel when one women read her paper--a critique about the One Billion Rising movement--quickly and in a monotone. People talking about their work is so much more powerful than listening to someone read, especially if they are reading in a disaffected manner. Further, I really hate it when I go to a panel to hear a particular panel and the one paper I wanted to hear is a no-show. The whole discussion is stunted with a missing piece. Roundtables and workshops are always worth attending.

I attended two roundtables that I want to share. One was with some of the editors from The Feminist Wire, a website and collective that does amazing work. The other was with the Crunk Feminist Collective who also publishes a blog. Both of these roundtables were amazing and inspiring. Both groups maintain and update their site regularly--daily and weekly, respectively. They do this work--for no pay--on top of their "real" work. Both provide insights that you will not see in the mainstream news media.

The Feminist Wire provides an extensive peer-review process and work collectively to edit articles. They publish well-known authors like bell hooks and Angela Davis as well as people who have never published. They also provide space for "college feminisms" and "elementary feminisms" and encourage young people to submit work to their site.

One of the most helpful aspects of both of these roundtable presentations was their discussion of self-care, a topic I presented on at NWSA this year, and a topic I start to explore in my book, Women and Fitness in American Culture. (More on this in my blog about Fitness at NWSA.) In an environment where everyone sacrifices their quality of life outside the academy--on my campus and in the academic world more generally--it is inspiring to hear women talk about the importance of taking a break, stepping away, or rewarding yourself for your hard work. Such is not easy to do, but it is necessary if we want to continue to serve our institutions, students, and communities.

When I shared excerpts from my book-in-progress with my students last fall, there were a few things that really struck them. I consider these to be "small" points that I am making, which makes it even more interesting how these "small" things resonated with them.

"Men seek to take up space; women disappear." Multiple students connected with this idea, and we discussed it from several angles. This semester a student shared a "feminist poem" with me, a piece by Lily Meyers that won the "best love poem" at the College Unions Poetry Slam Invitational at Wesleyan--
"Shrinking Women"
This spoken word piece illustrates this idea artfully. Her piece also echoes the stories I tell about my parents, and the legacies about bodies and space that we all carry from our families.

The other thing that students really connected with was a poem that I wrote called "The F Word." Students especially liked the end of the poem, a call to "fearless/fucking feminists." Students thought that this should be the title of my book and joked about how they would publish an underground version of my book with this title. For them, this is the truth that my writing spoke.

The fact that my students really connected with this title brings up some interesting points about language. Anyone who has had a conversation about feminism is familiar with the argument: why don't they just change the name? If "the f word" is so packed with misunderstandings, why don't we just call it humanism? Such conversations are short-lived in my classrooms. Once students begin to understand exactly how feminism emerged and grew, once they realize the impacts it has made on our collective and individual lives, they start to embrace--or at least understand--the term.

Claiming a feminist identity or ideology is another act of taking up space, refusing to set aside a word that has transformed the world just because of the ignorance and backlash that surrounds it.

Perhaps it was the "profanity" connected to both fearless and feminist that resonated with students. We are not used to hearing such words in our classrooms. One of my online students in my intro to American studies course has remarked multiple times after watching the recording of the class discussion that she has never heard so much profanity in a classroom. She says that she can't watch the class video when her children are around. The other students were surprised to hear this complaint. Perhaps when students discuss subjects that they are passionate about, they do not censor their language as much. Perhaps such passion has become so common place that I don't hear the "profanity" anymore.

Maybe this is what will happen to "feminism"; we will hear it so much that it will cease to register as "profanity." It will cease to offend those who prefer the softer, fuzzier idea of humanism (which is not at all the same as feminism). The word will not lose its weight; it will sink in and settle. It will take up space.