Friday, 1 May 2015

John Key: An Everyday Ponytail-Pulling Kiwi guy


 Following the New Zealand herald’s gradual decline into a tabloid consisting of weird and grisly death stories and b-list celebrity gossip, I’ve relied mainly on the Guardian for my news needs, and tend to only drop in a couple times a week to the herald.co.nz unless something particularly interesting is going on. Last week, however, NZ managed to make it into the Guardian headlines (a fairly rare event). Unfortunately the headline in question pertained to PM John Key’s half-assed apology for repeatedly pulling a waitress’s hair after being told to stop. Later in the week the Guardian also covered the accusations against the NZ Herald of deceiving and manipulating the woman at the center of the story in order to get the statements published in their coverage of the affair, against her explicit wishes, so embarrassment all round.
            And who can blame her for not wanting to be identified with this story? Since the Herald lost no time in publishing her full name and photo, New Zealanders have called her attention-seeking and petty and have disputed her version of the events (which you can read here) and her right to be upset over them. Key has also been subject to global mockery: media the world over have called his behavior childish and weird, many referencing other instances of hair-pulling and various other embarrassing moments during Key’s stint as PM. Key made things yet worse by trying to blow off the hair-pulling as a ‘bit of banter’/an innocent practical joke, to which the response of the media at large has been ‘right… that’s a bit funny, if you’re nine years old.’
            But apart from a couple of speculative articles suggesting the fallout might see Key fighting official sexual harassment charges in court, there’s been little serious media commentary on how this may influence Key’s reputation nationally and abroad. A handful of Tumblr users have dutifully drudged up other clips and photos of him touching girls’/women’s hair and seem to have convinced a large part of the internet that he has a not-so-latent hair fetish. Within the New Zealand public a few distinct camps have arisen: there are those who think the whole incident is trivial and blown out of proportion, and has no serious bearing on Key’s leadership position; others who were already somewhat embarrassed of the prime minister and bemoan that he is the single most significant representative of our country, a number of voices criticizing the Key’s sexism and his unwillingness to take responsibility for his actions, and at least as many people approvingly echoing Key’s own characterization of himself as ‘probably the most casual prime minister New Zealand’s ever had’.
            Nobody’s denying that. Over the past few days the country has been reminded of all the weirdly facetious and borderline-unprofessional moments in Key’s career, ranging from his awkward but harmless planking photo to his decidedly inappropriate jokes about a Maori tribe ‘having him for dinner’ and a radio host’s ‘gay red shirt’, reminding us all (as if we needed it) that John Key has always been a jokester. You know, like the awkward, over-confident, mildly racist uncle you try to avoid at family barbeques. Moreover, New Zealand has always implicitly celebrated him for this quality: after all, New Zealanders like to think of their country as egalitarian and classless, and nothing better supports that notion than a prime minister who can make fun of himself.
            On a superficial level, I rather like the idea of a prime minister who’s just your average kiwi guy. I like that a radio talk-show host can ask John Key his opinion on the new flag submissions and then tell him his choice is ‘bloody horrible’. It feels like that absence of stiff ideals of leaderly prestige can only contribute to a more open and honest dialogue between the PM and his people. But the other side of this is that Key isn’t taken as seriously as other world leaders, in New Zealand or elsewhere.  As the woman Key harassed points out on her blog, he ‘seemed to think that his job demanded less professionalism than that of a waitress’, despite being charged with running the country.
However, although Key has become something of an international laughing stock over his hair pulling, it seems the world considers it more as fodder for satire than as a serious indication of Key’s sexism and disrespect for women and girls, much less an issue of harassment or sexual assault. Within New Zealand’s political scene the focus has been on Key’s responsibility as a role model and representation of the country, rather than as a human being interacting with other human beings. Apart from a few women’s organizations who have labeled Key’s behavior as sexist bullying, a majority of politicians and authority figures have responded by making fun of Key, denying the significance of his actions, or blankly echoing his apologies and suggesting we all accept them and move on. The most disappointing of these came from our Minister for Women, Louise Upston, who implicitly legitimized Key’s behavior by calling it ‘light-hearted’ and refusing to comment on how it relates to women’s rights in the workplace.
  What seems to have gone largely unrecognized throughout this affair is the extent to which Key’s everyday kiwi bloke persona normalizes and legitimizes problematic behavior. The fact is that the ‘kiwi bloke’ Key represents belongs to a generation that still thinks it’s funny to joke about Maori being cannibals, doesn’t realize the harmfulness of using the word ‘gay’ as an insult, and touches women’s bodies as if they are public property, without thinking (or maybe just without caring) about how degraded and humiliated that makes them feel. And every time a New Zealander – politician or not – says something like ‘well, that’s just him joking around, he’s allowed to have a sense of humor, he’s just an ordinary guy’, we give the world more reason to associate New Zealanders with the set of outdated, sexist, racist and homophobic worldviews that John Key continually embodies.
Unfortunately, it seems unlikely that this will really mar Key’s position in New Zealand: the most recent polls showed no significant change in Key’s perception amongst the New Zealand public. The sexual harassment complaint launched against Key came from a private prosecutor without any connection to the woman concerned, making it unlikely that anything will come of it. If Key’s other embarrassing actions are any indication, it seems unlikely that anyone will be talking about it a month’s time. I hope that the woman at the center of the drama feels that the discussion that has come out of her statements outweighs the personal criticism she has faced as a result of it, but my gut feeling is that she will probably suffer at least as much fall-out from this as John Key does.

Friday, 29 August 2014

My IUD Experience


The Insertion 


The lovely midwife who was assigned to insert my IUD had prepared me beforehand for the experience to be painful. She told me to take some ibuprofen before I came in and to plan to take the rest of the day off, which I have. When I went in there I was feeling slightly nervous, but confident in her abilities and comfortable in the space they'd created for me.
            We chose a date when I would be menstruating, because that’s supposed to make it easier and less painful. The appointment started with a regular examination, during which she tried to get a look at my uterus and check its position. That wasn’t supposed to hurt, but it did, because I’m extra sensitive down there and gynaecological exams always do hurt a bit for me. After that she started trying to insert the IUD through a small tube, which… hurt like a bitch. My entire lower body started bracing and trying to push myself away from her. Luckily Olle was there to hold my hand and talk to me about other things, and that was really nice, but the process itself was still pretty awful. She tried several times and then decided we should stop for a while and try to get my body to relax. She said sometimes when people start cramping too much like this, you have to just leave it and try again another day.
            But I really didn’t want that! So while she went to get a colleague I tried really hard to relax and focus on my breathing. The second lady put me a bit further back, and kept going with the procedure while the other nurse pushed on my stomach (apparently that helps for some reason). And she did it! After just a couple minutes she said ‘and it’s done’. It took something like fifteen minutes instead of the five it’s supposed to, but it was done.
            Immediately afterwards I started to feel nauseous. I was still having severe stomach pain. I lay back for a while, trying to breathe through the pain and feeling myself get kind of faint and shaky, and then I threw up. I threw up quite a lot. But I started to feel a bit better after that.
            Apparently these symptoms affect about 10% of the people who have the procedure done. I went to lie down on their sofa for a while with a blanket over me, and about an hour after they’d completed the insertion I felt ready to walk home. Now I’m just hanging out on our sofa with a wheatbag and watching stand-up comedy. I just feel like I have a heavy period (which is accurate). It’s not so bad. The liquorice allsorts are good.

Update 1: Five hours later

The pain seems to have pretty much passed. Since I got home I've been experiencing pain similar to my ordinary menstrual cramps (which are pretty mild) amped up a little bit. I ate lots of candy and pasta to make up for upchucking breakfast and I've downloaded the last Divergent book. It's only average so far, but it's keeping me amused.

Olle's kind of ill as well, so this has turned into a sickday for both of us. Honestly, I don't feel nearly as bad as I thought I would. I'm super glad I didn't do this in New Zealand and go to work afterwards like I'd planned to, but right now it's really no big deal. The post office is holding two packages for me right now, so I'm thinking when it stops raining soon I'll go for a little walk and pick them up. It's hard to believe I was feeling so awful just a few hours ago.

Update 2: Day and a Half Later

So, the rest of my recovery day was more or less uneventful. I had no more bleeding than I usually do during my period, and not a lot more pain than usual either. At one point in the evening I got a bit sore and sad and felt like I was maybe coming down with Olle's cold, but that passed when I got outside a bit and made myself some salad to balance out the day's sugar in-take. I slept easily and comfortably.

This morning I had a new kind of stabby pain in the right side of my stomach, and got a bit worried that my body was trying to reject the thing (apparently the biggest risk period for that is the 10 days after insertion) but it passed a little while later and hasn't come back. I've had some more mild cramps today, but nothing I couldn't control with some regular painkiller. I think the worst has definitely based.

The Verdict

I guess it remains to be seen whether I will pass smoothly through the rest of the risk period and how the IUD will effect me in the coming months, but at this point, I'm very happy with it. The insertion wasn't exactly fun and games, but for five years of no-hassle, very reliable birth control, I'm happy enough with the way it turned out. My recommendation for anyone looking to get the IUD is to make sure to find a doctor you trust, have a light breakfast beforehand, and make sure you have juice or something on hand to quickly replenish your blood sugar. And also if you can have someone there to hold your hand, that doesn't hurt.

My decision to stop taking birth control



Most of my readers will know that through most of the duration of this blog I’ve been in a long distance relationship. Seven weeks ago I moved across the world to live with my partner, but before that we saw each other only once every five to six months, for visits of three to five weeks. Since we were only seeing each other on rare, predetermined dates, and we’ve been in an exclusive relationship, I used birth control pills on the weeks we were together and stopped taking them for the months in between.
The first two times I took norimin (a combined estrogen and progesterone pill) were during my visits to Sweden in December 2012 and July 2013. I didn’t notice any weird side effects at the time, but I did suffer yeast infections during both trips. At the time I figured they must have been because of something I’d done wrong (I’m already predisposed to yeast problems, so things like staying in wet clothes too long can cause me to develop an infection quite easily), but I’ve recently discovered that birth control medications can cause yeast infections due to increased yeast infections. Given that I’ve had the problem whenever I’ve been on the medication, but have been fine in between, I’m now pretty certain that the medication was responsible.
The third time I used the medication was last December, in New Zealand, and in the five weeks that I took it I gained about six kgs. On a naturally small, 50 kg frame that was pretty significant: it meant that I couldn’t comfortably fit some of my clothes anymore, including my bras, and I felt and looked quite different. I was happy enough to gain a little weight – I’d actually been trying and failing to do that for over a year – but while I was on the medication it seemed like I was going to continue steadily gaining weight whether I liked it or not. I couldn’t control my appetite. I went from being satisfied with three smallish meals a day to eating bigger meals and snacking constantly in between. I was thinking all the time about food. I realized that if I was going to stay on the medication for more than five weeks, which I had been planning to do, I was going to have to make efforts to accommodate my new appetite and moderate my weight gain. I’ve always lived with the privilege of not having to think about what I eat beyond whether I’m getting proper nutrition, because my metabolism just took care of whatever fat or carbs I consumed without it having any impact on my weight or size. The change disconcerted me.
When I stopped taking the pills in January most of the weight came right off again. My appetite and metabolism went back to normal, but I knew that in a few months time I would finally be living with my partner on a long-term basis, and that meant continuing to take the pills and dealing with whatever side effects I encountered, or choosing another contraceptive instead. This was when I started considered the copper IUD, which works by using copper as a spermicide. The copper IUD doesn’t interact with hormones or medications, it lasts for more than five years, it’s as effective as permanent sterilization (but much more easily reversible, obviously) and in New Zealand it is subsidized by the government, making it free apart from the cost of having a doctor insert it. The main downsides of the IUD are that it can cause significant changes in menstrual flow and that the insertion and the period immediately afterwards are often very painful.
I actually even made an appointment to have the IUD inserted, but I ended up chickening out. It seemed too close to when I was leaving New Zealand and I didn’t want to be dealing with an irritating or painful aftermath in my first weeks in Sweden. Instead I got a few months’ supply of pills and determined to be very careful about my diet and exercise while taking them. This time I found noticed little difference in my appetite, which I attribute mainly to my improved ability to create wholesome, filling meals for myself, but there were changes in my body nonetheless. This time one of my breasts grew and not the other. I started having problems with excessive yeast again. A couple of weeks after I arrived here, I discovered a new lump on my right breast, underneath one that has been there since it I had it diagnosed as a benign fibroadenoma three years ago. I went to see a doctor as soon as I could, knowing that they were going to have to refer me to a specialist clinic before I could get any verdict. I tried not to worry about it, because most of the lumps that can develop in breast tissue are harmless, but I did have an aunt who died of breast cancer, so it’s been playing on my mind a bit. Yesterday I finally got into the specialist and found out that the new lump is a benign cyst caused by hormonal imbalance, which made the breast produce liquid faster than it could absorb it.
I had already been pretty much convinced that the lump was directly related to the birth control, after checking the pamphlet that came with it and seeing it listed among the side effects. After reading that the medication could cause major changes in breast tissue and also increased the user’s risk of developing breast cancer, I decided I had had enough and stopped taking it immediately. To me, the kinds of side effects I was experiencing – none of which are very out of the ordinary, apparently – were totally unacceptable. It makes sense, when you think about it, because of course women’s natural hormonal levels vary, so giving everyone the same dosage of estrogen is bound to result in hormonal imbalances for many people. For a lot of women this causes changes in their libido and their mood as well as their bodies. The normalization of these very troubling side effects is really concerning to me. Coming off the pill has meant that my partner and I couldn’t do some of the stuff we’d like to for a while, but that was a sacrifice I was totally willing to make in order to feel like I had control over my body and an understanding of what was happening inside it again.

A couple weeks ago my partner and I dropped in at our local Ungdomsmottagning (a Swedish youth sexuality clinic) and made an appointment to talk to someone about the copper IUD. Their service was excellent, and today (a week after our consultation) I’m going to have the IUD inserted for no cost at all. I will be blogging the experience, to provide some insights for anyone else on the fence about the copper IUD or just curious about how it feels. Feel free to leave questions in the comments; I’ll try to answer them all as best I can!

Saturday, 19 July 2014

Why Chivalry is an Enemy of Feminist Progress


For some time I have struggled to understand why the word ‘gentleman’ (and the concept, moreover) tends to repel me a little bit. It seems to me that the perfect man longed for by young women and living apparently mainly in Nicholas Sparks novels is charged not only with the responsibility of being a decent person in general, but should also volunteer himself for any remotely physically challenging task, regularly spend money to treat the women in his life, and should make obvious efforts to protect his female partners from the rest of the men in the world. I always felt like it was too bitchy to admit that I don’t really want any of that.
As a feminist and a fairly independent person, I don’t want any person in my life to take responsibility for my finances, or any other part of life as an adult woman. Fortunately my partner shares my critical stance on gender norms, and has never had to be told not to pay for my dates/pull out my chair/protect me from the world. I understand how these behaviors must seem like the kindest option to many men, but the truth is if I had a man insisting upon paying for every date or carrying heavy objects for me, I’d feel patronized and robbed of autonomy instead of enamored. I want the world to see me as a person who can do things for herself, and I definitely wouldn’t want my partner of all people to treat me as if I can’t, even if that wasn’t the intention behind his actions.
But my reaction to these norms of the gentleman stereotype runs deeper than these purely personal objections. I think in modern life we have managed to separate these ideals from their very problematic origins, and in doing so we’ve cast a sheath of innocence over something that’s actually quite offensive if we interrogate it at all. The notion of chivalric romance belongs to the medieval institutions of knighthood and courtly love, wherein a man’s honor depended upon his adherence to a code of nobility. The courtly love trope depicts medieval men securing women’s affections through a cycle that looks something like this:

1. Initial attraction based solely on woman’s appearance
2. Worship from afar
3. Declarations of passionate devotion
4. Virtuous rejection by the woman
5. More insistent declarations of passionate undying devotion
6. Moans of approaching death from unsatisfied desire (this is the first time I’ve ever used words directly from a Wikipedia article, but that’s just too good)
7. Heroic deeds of valour which finally win the woman’s heart[1].

Of course there is little evidence to demonstrate conclusively that these codes existed in real life as well as literature, but even just as a model to aim towards, they hardly promote wholesome romantic relations[2]. Women in medieval literature exist mainly as idols or objects (or both). And although many of the men who engage in what we can call modern chivalric behavior may not be well-versed in Arthurian literature (no judgment here, that was by far my least favorite university paper), I would argue that the connection still very much exists. While many people today would understand why the relentless wooing and idolization of women considered noble in medieval society are actually very problematic, still more would consider them harmless at worst and charming and desirable at best. Thus, many of the things modern men do to try and win a woman’s heart (paying for her meals, opening doors, lifting heavy objects, etc.) are not so far divorced from the norms of the 13th century. These actions can be placed on the opposite end of a scale also featuring stalking, controlling and abusive relationships, and all of the uglier forms of sexism, because they are all based in the same rarely examined idea: that women are innately more precious, more delicate, and less human than men.
This is a problem not only because of the connection between what might be seen as harmless chivalry and extremely damaging sexism, but because chivalry is constantly used as an argument against feminism. People already confused over the term ‘feminist’ have claimed to me that it is paradoxical because modern women want both independence and to have dates paid and doors opened by their male romantic partners. This, of course, is a massive and unhelpful generalization, but as long as women continue to accept and encourage displays of chivalric behavior, it will continue to be used against us.

Of course, these dark beliefs need not be present in order for men to treat women kindly and respectfully, and I don’t want to suggest that a better world would be one in which no one opened doors for anyone. I just don’t see why courtesy has to be gendered. If you believe sincerely that women are just as capable as men, you can perform chivalrous acts towards anybody who might be in need of a hand or just because you feel like it. We could be a society not of gentlemen and fragile ladies, but of gentle people, who don’t need an age-old sexist behavior code to tell us where and when to bother being nice. And if that were the case, I would also probably be less inclined to worry that the men who want to buy me things and perform acts of servitude are secretly expecting some sexual reward in return.
As a feminist, I want to participate in building a society in which my sex is not seen as a disability, and to me that means pulling my own weight (literally). I want to be the woman who volunteers to carry the heavy boxes of paper up the stairs at work. Unfortunately, this has been difficult for me to pull off, because:

a. I am not very physically strong, and
b. I have arthritis – an actual disability – in my hands, shoulders and neck. And long-term muscular strain issues relating to the chronic pain.

However, participating in any way in the perpetuation of the ‘women are fragile and must be looked after/served by men’ ideal bothers me a lot, so I’m making it one of my fitness goals for the rest of the year to build up my upper body strength in whatever way I can manage. I may never be able to move furniture on my own, but I’ll be damned if I can’t at least lend a hand when I want to. I hope this leads people to see me as someone who doesn’t depend upon anyone else, much less on a gendered system of special treatment. Because I don’t want to be treated differently, or seen differently, even if it’s in exclusively positive ways.


[1] "Courtly Love." Wikipedia. Accessed July 18th, 2014. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Courtly_love.
[2] "Courtly Love." Wikipedia. Accessed July 18th, 2014. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Courtly_love#Real-world_practice

Monday, 16 June 2014

Some words on violence and art.


Attention: this blog is not a real blog! It’s one part explanation of why there’s been nothing for such a long time, one part description of what is to come, and one part rumination on things that have been happening lately.

For those of you who don’t know, I also write fiction sometimes, but not very much because it’s difficult and I’m lazy about it. About once or twice a year I have an idea that I think is worthy of working out on paper, and a few weeks ago I got one of them in the night, just as I was falling asleep. The feeling of having a really exciting story occur to me out of nowhere is one of the purest joys I’ve experienced. This one came to me with lots of that excitement (which pretty much all my ideas have, at least at the beginning) but also with a complete plot and ending (which almost none of them do). It’s loosely based on a character arch from one of the many partly written novels I started and eventually gave up on in high school. I figured out all at once that it could work as a short story, with details that I’m better equipped to create now that I’m an adult with some life experience behind me. So I’ve been working on that, and since I’ve been writing it fairly quickly, I kept thinking it was almost done when it really wasn’t. In fact, now that I’ve just got the final, most important scenes left to write, I’ve realized that it’s actually a lot more complicated and tricky to pull than I thought at the beginning, and it might take some time/not work out at all.
            The story deals with street harassment, trauma, and the ways people think and talk about beauty. Shortly after I started writing it, a young man in California killed his three roommates and three women to fulfill his insane vendetta against every woman who never had sex with him (i.e. all women). It hit me very hard that he actually got what he wanted, albeit on a smaller scale, and that everyone was going to remember his name and forget anything meaningful about the people he killed. A few days after that, a woman from my work was murdered on her way home at night. And this felt even worse, in a way, because it just made no sense: the man who killed her didn’t know her, it didn’t appear to be premeditated, he just saw her at her bus stop and took her and now she’s gone from the world.
            It’s the kind of killing that you think doesn’t happen so close to you, but of course it does, and when it does you remember that even though you live in a first world country, in a nice area, even if it’s not that late at night and your bus stop is only 500 meters from your house, you could one day just be murdered.
            So I’ve been thinking about all of that while writing, and about all the obscenities that have ever been called out at me while I was alone and vulnerable, and the times it just irritated me and the times I was really afraid. I think that the story might be important because it has some things to say about that.

            However, it also deals with specific kinds of trauma that I thankfully haven’t experienced, and that makes me nervous. It makes me worried that I’m not going to do justice to the real, lived experiences of real people who might read it, and that I might hurt them all over again. I worry that I might be doing it wrong or for the wrong reasons. I think I have to write the rest of the story and figure out whether it’s good and risky, or just okay and risky, or actually not that good at all. So no promises just yet.
I think traumatic experiences tend to be easier to write about because it’s easier to get a draw a kind of beauty out of misery than out of happiness. It’s hard to write happy stories that aren’t just cheesy or bland. But after a few years of writing some fairly dark stories, I’ve decided that it isn’t enough for something to just be dark – it has to be dark with a purpose, and ideally with some hope in there as well. And it should be artfully done, because there is no point in putting negative things into the world if it isn’t art.
And besides all of that, when you’re writing about things that you haven’t specifically experienced, it comes with a set of responsibilities to the people who have. It’s about finding the line between exploring and exploiting trauma. I want to make sure I’m on the right side of it.

On that topic, my good friend Tom Augustine is fundraising this week for a short film he’ll be shooting in July. It’s called Long Time Coming, and it deals with misogyny and violence. I’ve read the script and I think it’s going to be a very important contribution to the discussion New Zealand’s been having on-and-off since the Roast Busters scandal came out last year. Tom’s been working very hard to stay on the right side of the exploration/exploitation scale, and I encourage all of you to have a look at his PledgeMe here and consider contributing if you can.

Anyway, alongside the story, this week I’m going to be working on an illustrated piece about something quite different. So all going well, you can expect a blog of substance within a week. Best wishes everyone. xx

Thursday, 20 March 2014

Art Against Female Genital Mutilation



A note on chosen terminology: ‘female genital mutilation’ is currently the term approved and used by the World Health Organization, because it is thought to capture more accurately the needless, horrific violence of female circumcision processes. ‘Genital cutting’ is sometimes used out of respect for those girls and women who have undergone this process and do not want to think of themselves as mutilated. In this blog I will use ‘female genital mutilation’, or ‘FGM’, because I am approaching the topic as a human rights violation and a health hazard for the millions of girls who undergo the process every year.

Female genital mutilation (FGM), also called female circumcision or female cutting, is the process of removing parts of the female sex organs. Unlike male circumcision, in which only the foreskin is removed, female circumcision frequently involves cutting away part or all of the clitoris and labia minora. In the most extreme cases, the remaining flesh is sewn together, and must be cut or torn open for the woman to have penetrative sex or give birth, and then sewn together again. FGM is usually practiced on girls between the ages of four and twelve, but some cultures practice it as late as just prior to a woman’s marriage, or as early as a few days after birth.

FGM is almost always done by respected older women who are trained to do it from a young age. The process is often passed down from mother to daughter, as it is usually a valued and profitable trade within the communities that practice it. The girls who undergo FGM have to be held down, because it is an extremely painful process, and is completed without any anesthesia. Because the circumcisers usually have little knowledge of medicine or hygienic practices, many girls die from excessive bleeding or infections from unsterilized tools (including sharp rocks and pieces of glass and metal). It is suspected that FGM and the unhygienic practices involved with it has been a major contributor to the spread of HIV in African countries, but there has not yet been sufficient research to confirm this.

The reasons people practice FGM are complex and overlapping, but they can be broadly categorised into five main explanations:

1. Controlling Female Sexuality

In some areas where a woman’s sexual restraint is crucial to the honour of her family or clan, FGM is practiced in order to reduce women’s sexual desire. In some cases this is done to ensure that a woman will not have a greater libido than her husband, thereby allowing men to have multiple wives. The mutilation of the female sex organ also radically decreases a woman’s capacity for sexual pleasure.

2. Custom and Tradition

Many countries practice FGM as a ritual initiating a young girl into adulthood, marriage, and motherhood.

3. Social Pressure

18 of the 28 African countries where FGM is practiced have prevalence rates of 50% or higher. These communities have practiced FGM for generations, and have turned it into a social norm. Many young girls face severe social stigmatization for being uncircumcised. Many mothers believe that their daughters will be unable to find a husband if they are not circumcised.

4. Religion

The problem of FGM predates the arrival of Christianity and Islam in Africa, and is not a requirement of either religion. However, it is strongly associated with Islam and is advocated by many Islamists.

5. Myths and beliefs about Hygiene, Aesthetics, and Biology

Sometimes FGM is practiced because of mistaken beliefs that the vulva is unhygenic or ugly in its complete state, or that the clitoris will grow into a penis if it is not removed. Some people are (falsely) led to believe that FGM increases fertility and child survival rates. These are less significant than the reasons above, but still tragic and important.

FGM is practiced mainly in countries in Africa, the Middle East, and South, Southeast and central Asia. It is conducted without the understanding or consent of the young girls involved. It is a human rights violation. Thousands of girls die from health complications of FGM every year, and still more are left with ongoing physical, sexual and psychological consequences. Circumcised women may experience chronic pain, chronic pelvic infections, development of cysts, abscesses, and genital ulcers, decreased sexual enjoyment/libido, urinary/menstrual problems, depression, post-traumatic stress, and infertility.

Like so many health problems, FGM is experienced mainly by girls and women who are already systematically underprivileged by extreme poverty, lack of education and resources, gender-based oppression, and lack of representation. The added factors of social taboo and squeamishness about female genitalia worldwide mean that even in places where we have the power and resources to openly discuss the problem and maybe do something about it, we rarely do. To this end, I’m launching Paper Vulvas: a craftivism campaign aiming to raise awareness of FGM through public origami. To get involved, use this tutorial to make your origami vulvas, and display them somewhere public where you think they’ll be noticed. Use your voice to celebrate the beauty of female genitalia in their complete, natural state and to stand against FGM. The project will be documented on this tumblr, where you can follow along and also upload photos of your own origami creations.

Lastly, if you would like to contribute financially towards the end of FGM, please consider donating to Forward or 28 Too Many, two UK-based charities doing great work into research, education, and advocacy regarding FGM worldwide.

Tuesday, 14 January 2014

Mythbusting 'Feminine Hygiene' Products



For the longest time it has irked me that I can walk into any given pharmacy and not find a single packet of female condoms[1], but be faced instead with entire aisles of products devoted to treating and hiding the natural odors of the female genitalia. This is what they look like, in case you’re unfamiliar:





These products come in the forms of wipes, douches, sprays, and body washes. The myth that fuels their production is that the vulva is somehow naturally unclean and produces odors which are universally unappealing and shameful. These odors and dirtiness cannot be removed with regular soap and water, supposedly, so instead women are invited to choose from a range of products to take care of this eternal female hardship. The products claim to ‘cure’ natural feminine odors by cleaning the vulva (again, with some mysteriously undefined method that ordinary soaps cannot emulate) and balancing its PH.
The assumption that the vulva is unclean in its natural state is just untrue. In actuality the healthy vagina constantly cleans itself with its own natural discharge, which functions in a similar way to saliva in the mouth[2]. The vagina also naturally harbors bacteria, particularly Lactobacillus acidophilus, which is very important to controlling populations of yeast (also naturally occurring and normal) and discouraging other unwanted microbes from proliferating[3]. Most vaginas have this whole thing pretty much downpat and don’t need any help from questionably motivated hygiene companies. In fact, these products usually cause much more harm than good: the harsh chemicals used in most vaginal douches, washes and wipes get rid of Lactobacillus acidophilus as well as unwanted bacteria. Douching can even push these bacteria further in and increase the likelihood of infection. Furthermore, the perfumes in these products are a common allergen and a lamentably preventable cause of yeast infections (which happens when the pre-existing yeast colonies in the vulva get out of control, often because of the absence of Lactobacillus acidophilus).
The companies which market feminine hygiene products frequently reference PH balance and general vaginal health, but only as far as they can without revealing the redundancy of their own contribution. I.e., PH balance is presented as something that has to be achieved through artificial means, not as the natural state of the healthy, unassisted vagina. Likewise, it’s suggested (or stated outright) that the natural smells of the vulva are always unpleasant, and that cleaning and scenting products are the only means to keep your vulva from repulsing everyone around you. Because these are aromas that occur during the normal cycle of the healthy vagina, scented products are unlikely to cover them up for very long. For smells which aren’t normal and healthy, there is usually a medical explanation that should treated under the advice of a doctor, and not self-medicated with feminine deodorants which only aggravate infections.
These products depend upon women not knowing how their bodies work or what they’re supposed to smell like. Their marketing combines references to the natural, allegedly undesirable odors of the female body with pseudo-scientific mentions of PH balance and vaginal health, and the occasional feel-good girls-against-the-world sentiment. These ads tend to have a lot in common with the tampon and pad ads I explored last year. See the advertisements below.



Here Femfresh manage to insidiously connect the ideal of female self-love with their range of vaginal liquid soaps, deodorant sprays and wipes, without even using the words ‘vagina’ or ‘vulva’. Instead they rely upon a range of far-fetched euphemisms[4] (‘Yoni’ sounds like it could be a frozen yoghurt brand, and I have never heard anyone say ‘froo-froo’, in any context) to make their point. The implication is that their products are designed primarily to address a health concern, and not as a cover-up for female odors and a deterrent for the shame associated with them.
This ad extends the covering-up process enabled by their product to the very language they expect women to use when referring to their own bodies, and implies that it is only with their help that women can ‘love’ their vagina. Not by masturbating or having sex or anything though. Just keeping it tidy.
The passage about the dangers of regular shower gels and soaps has some truth – for many women, use of any soap can be irritating and can increase the likelihood of yeast infections – but the solution to this is not some new revolutionary Femfresh product. Actually, because the vagina is so good at cleaning itself, most women can just use warm water without any soap at all and have a perfectly hygienic, healthy vulva. Certainly it’s never necessary to use soap inside the vagina.






The underlying ugliness of these products seems to seep through even comparatively good marketing. I like that this ad associates traditionally feminine dress and appearance with the supposedly male characteristic of courage. But I don’t like that it’s being linked back to being ‘clean and fresh’ ‘down there’ (again with the inability of advertisers to say vulva) with the help of artificial cleansing products. It makes the whole ad seem sort of patronizing.



This one from Summer’s Eve really takes the cake though. The company actually has the nerve to submit vaginal cleansing with their product as the number one thing a woman should do before asking for a raise at work. This ad received a tremendously negative response, unsurprisingly, and was quickly removed from circulation, but the underlying implication – that a woman’s worth ultimately comes down to the condition of her body, and particularly her vagina – is still clearly prominent[5].

These products participate in wider myths about how the vulva is supposed to be and who gets to have opinions about it. They perpetuate and profit off unnecessary body shame, and prioritize the pleasing of other people (including employers, bizarrely) over personal health. Moreover, their marketing implies that feeling socially acceptable is essential to a woman’s confidence and self-esteem. And beyond all that, they’re not even good for the vulva! I look forward to the day when there’s no longer a market for this kind of nonsense.




[1] Recently, in fact, my local pharmacy has decided to remove their condom section entirely. Interesting decision.
[2] “Vaginal Discharge: Knowing the Difference Between Normal Discharge and Infections”. McKinley Health Centre. Accessed Jan 15th, 2014. http://www.mckinley.illinois.edu/handouts/vaginal_discharge.html
[3] Winston, Sherri. “Vaginal Ecology: an Owner’s Guide to Care and Maintenance”.
[4] Here is a list of intentionally ironic euphemisms I have created for possible substitution: brouhaha, hogwash, claptrap, humbug.
[5] Kiefaber, David. “Summer’s Eve Ad: Douche More, Earn More.” Adweek.com. Accessed 15.1.14. http://www.adweek.com/adfreak/summers-eve-ad-douche-more-earn-more-12304