Sunday 24 June 2012

Privilege blindness is a choice

It is not uncommon for me to get very upset about a policy announcement, action or inaction from the current government. In fact I am starting to feel quiet depressed at the current situation to the point of spending large amounts of my day shouting or wanting to cry.

But today something happened that was so revolting it made even my mild mannered, peaceful husband shout 'what?'  and declare that he was very upset. I am referring of course to the announcement that housing benefit might be withdrawn from those under 25.

I'll be honest I've not read beyond the headlines, I can't bring myself too, I may end up in a quivering wreck on the floor. What upsets me most is that the political classes cannot pretend not to understand what they are doing.

I had an incredibly privileged upbringing, I've done the boarding school thing, I've done the Oxbridge thing, I've done the live at home at 22 thing. I understand that my life experience is not everyone's, I also understand that my life experience is grossly unfair. I choose not to let my privilege blind me. There may be many many things that my privilege makes it hard for me to understand, I am sure I have attitudes and prejudices that are just plain wrong and need changing and challenging, but God blessed me with two ears and I, to the best of my ability, choose to use them to understand the world.

David Cameron studied PPE. He must have been presented with a range of political theories so he has had alternative world views to choose from. He must know it is a possibility that young people on housing benefit are not mealy lazy scroungers.

And all this in the name of austerity. This is where the political classes  are really choosing to remain privilege blind. Spouting off rhetoric about austerity while none of them have to worry about what there children will eat tomorrow, whether they will be able to afford school shoes, how to pay the gas bill and resist the temptation to bye a wide screen TV on credit to paper over the wounds of poverty inflicted on them. They do not know what austerity means yet they use the word like it is everyone else who does not understand.

What struck me recently is that there is not actually less stuff, there's been no harvest failure, no mass loss of crops or livestock (not in uk at least) nothing real has changed since 2008, just economics and politics, just a change in hot air. There is more than enough to go round. The wealth of the richest thousand people in Britian has increased by £30bn more than the deficit and most of them pay significantly less tax as a proportion than the rest of us (with the exception of Dyson and Rowling).

It's all so very very wrong. And Mr. Milliband - I am very upset with you. Here's an idea; how about rather than joining the 'the Eastern Europeans are stealing British jobs' rhetoric you could point out that if we insisted on paying a living wage the 'competition' would disappear and workers would realise that they stood in solidarity with each other wherever they where from and that the real opponent was the powerful. If it is true (and I doubt it) that British workers are losing out on jobs because others will work for less, in worse conditions, then yes we could sort that by preventing people 'coming in' or we could not let employers exploit them then they would have no vested interest in employing them instead of those who have the power not to tolerate abuse. This should be pretty obvious you are called Labour for a reason.

We have not seen levels of inequality like the current ones since Dickensian days. Yes the levels of absolute poverty may be slightly different but inequalitie is huge and is the major problem not the deficit.

So to all politicians I would like to wake up tomorrow and not have to apologise to my daughter for the world she is going to grow up in. Just for a day could you chose to see the world through someone else's eyes. 

Monday 18 June 2012

Your Vagina Smells Just Great!

On Saturday I was on a very pleasant walk with my beautiful family when suddenly I was confronted with an advert on the side of a phone box, which quiet honestly made me burst out laughing. It appears I am not the only one who noticed.

While the utter ridiculousness of Femfresh's product initially made me laugh I also find it incredibly sinister. The beauty industry has made an assault on most every part of our bodies, not even our vaginas are exempt from it's critique. 'Whatever you call it make sure you love it' translation: If your not using our product you are not loving your vagina and it needs special products cause it's a little bit smelly and gross.

This in a week where we've seen uproar because someone dared to use the word vagina in a debate in Michigan. And the Christian world is no more comfortable with the word, though I am glad the it did make it into Rachel Held Evan's book (http://rachelheldevans.com/victory-vagina).

So can I make a plea. Please love your vagina, vulva, clitoris et al. and know that it is just great the way it is, there is a reason it doesn't smell of flowers. And before you feel the need to purchase something that promises to provided 'multi-Actif deoderising complex to provide that little extra reassurance', ask yourself, when was the last time you thought 'gosh her vagina smells', why have they miss-spelt active and did I feel the need for reassurance previous to seeing this ad?


Monday 11 June 2012

Porn is NOT like doing the washing up

This mourning while doing the house work I have been watching Louis Theroux's documentary 'Twilight of Porn Stars.' There is so so much so very very wrong with this 'documentary' but I'll leave the critique about whether the industry is 'dying' to the excellent Gail Dines. (See here)


Just to briefly make the point that no one would argue that because seamstress in Bangladesh where getting less pay and finding it harder to find work that the clothing industry was in crisis.  


I just want to explore whether porn is like doing the washing up? Several people during the documentary made that point that we all have to do things we don't want to do. 


Today I have a day of admin and house work before me, I don't particularly want to do any of these things. So far I have done half the washing up, half sorted the laundry and half cleaned the bedroom. I have not particularly enjoyed any of them, but neither have they exposed me to huge levels of risk and abuse.


Not really wanting to do anal, but doing it anyway because we all have to do things we don't really want to do, is so very very different from not really wanting to do the washing up but doing it anyway, because we all have things we don't really want to do.


Firstly I am not doing the washing up for financial reasons, I'm doing it because its part of life. Capitalism has so  warped how we understand work that we see money as the end product of work. Work should be about changing the world, stewarding and governing, it moving it towards Shalom. Money should be the way we codify stewardship. An unwanted sexual act produces nothing towards this end. 


Secondly doing the washing up does not compromise my bodily integrity. The body is not a product, the body is not an apology, the body cannot be sold or bought. A sexual act that is unwanted, where a person does not feel able or cannot say no is a sexual offence. This was brushed over in the documentary, left unchallenged. Could someone say no? was not asked.


Thirdly there is not a huge weight of documented evidence to show the damaging effects of the washing up, nothing to expose the coercive nature of the washing up industry, it will not increase my risk of infection, anal  hemorrhage and I will not only be able to sustain involvement in the washing up for an average of three years, no one is making billions out of my doing the washing up.


The documentary ended by saying 'Porn is a refuge for people fleeing lives of chaos a place where they can blend in and feel valued' these words made my stomach turn. What a misunderstanding of the word refuge and what irony at a time where services seeking to provide refuge from gender based violence are being slashed. 

Thursday 7 June 2012

Breast vs Bottle War


I have not eaten Nestle for half my life. 14 years. Now you all know how old I am. That is how much I value breastfeeding.

I complained about a display in a local shop that had cow's head's on female dressed manikins with a sign declaring 'Breast is Best', I value Breastfeeding.

But I cannot walk round the adult world and tell who was breast fed and who wasn't.

It's just not as important as we'd like to make it. Sure there are questions to be asked about capitalist marketing, about women's body image and support of the wider community, but at the end of the day what matters is that the child was fed and held and loved.

Pendulum's swing and in reacting against pressure we must ensure we don't create it. There are women distraught because they cannot breastfeed or can't produce enough milk or don't want to, or want to return to work or have to return to work.

Feminists need to create a rhetorical environment that values breastfeeding but also values choice. That values the best for the child recognising that that is not divorced from the needs of the mother. In responding to a situation where women where coxed and coerced into using formula lets not create a situation where they are coxed and coerced into not using formula.

Stop the mummy wars join the movement for parent peace.

Wednesday 6 June 2012

I vow to thee, the market


As promised in my previous blog my take on an old hymn:

I vow to thee, the market, to support your bet,
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of your debt;
The debt that asks no question, the debt that fails the test,
That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;
The debt that’s bound to falter, the debt that pays the price,
The debt that makes unquestioned the final sacrifice.

I heard a country calling, away across the sea,
Across the waste of deficit it calls and calls to me.
The people all are paying for a future full of dread,
And round her land are lying the dying and the dead.
I hear the noise of cut backs, the rhetoric of what’s fair,
I haste to pay taxes, but not all pay their share.

And there's another system, I've heard of long ago,
Most dear to them that seek it, most great to them that know;
We may not rate its credit, we may speak of her King;
Its fortress is not usury, her pride not profiting;
And soul by soul they don’t care if the shining bonds increase,
As its ways are ways of generousness, and all its paths are peace.

Tuesday 5 June 2012

Yearning for a Jubilee


What sort of country do we live in? A country that buses 300 people into London, makes them sleep under a bridge in bitter weather and work for free? 


A country that makes an elderly couple stand for 80 minutes on a boat in freezing whether? While our grotesque colonial history is celebrated, while a crowd that is totally unrepresentative of London looks on, while the bankers take a holiday from making debt and young girls aspire to being a princess just like Kate, cause there sure aren't any other jobs around.


Oh yeah its a country that sings this totally un-biblical and ridiculous song:


I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above, 
(Don't even get what 'all earthly things above means?)
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love; 
(that surely is idolatrous? to vow your love to something other than God?)
The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,
(yeah cause Jesus didn't do discursive teaching he was all about dictatorship)
That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.
(This is a huge thing to vow and again it is idolatrous to vow it to your country, but didn't Jesus say something about not swearing by anything or making vows?) 


I heard my country calling, away across the sea,
Across the waste of waters she calls and calls to me.
Her sword is girded at her side, her helmet on her head,
And round her feet are lying the dying and the dead.
I hear the noise of battle, the thunder of her guns,
I haste to thee my mother, a son among thy sons.
(We don't normally sing this verse hey? totally revolting. Why has Britain never repented of this humiliating part of our history? why do we remember it with such a romantic gloss? While we continue to bash the Germans and continently forget that taking other people's countries was something we lead the way in.)


And there's another country, I've heard of long ago,
(It is not "another country" it is the rule of God, there is no comparison. Neither is it the thing of long ago - it is at hand, subverting power structures)
Most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;
(Somehow this line reads as a little patronising)
We may not count her armies, we may not see her King;
(You would quail in your boots if you saw Him - but He is there to be known by anyone who wants)
Her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;
(We are not proud to suffer - there is nothing biblical in that idea, we rejoice through suffering not because of it and take pride only in Jesus Christ)
And soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase,
(It is not silent - there is more rejoicing in heaven luke 15:7)
And her ways are ways of gentleness, and all her paths are peace.


Think I feel a hymn re-writing coming on.


Come Lord Jesus and sort us out we need a jubilee sooo badly.