Through White-Coloured Glasses

I am writing this as a person who has benefitted from white privilege all my life; I also have other intersecting privileged and non-privileged identities which naturally feed into the sum total of my experience.  However, I’m going to try and define, for me, what white privilege is, and it is important to mention I live in the south of England so my perspective is that of a white English person.  For this reason, I will avoid mentioning intersecting identities (I hope; I have a tendency to ramble so who knows what might come up…)

The reason why white privilege exists is the racism which created and now perpetuates inherent within the systems which guide our lives, such as the law, education and government.  White privilege is the condition benefitting white people within our society as a direct result of that racism.   One thing I am sure of is that my white privilege will blind me in writing this blog and this will not be, by any means, a comprehensive summary.

In our education system, every subject we study utilises text books written by white people.  The environment in which we learn is predominantly white.  The effect of this is the subliminal message that learning and understanding is something handed down by those who are white and therefore is belonging to white people, and this is a message received without thought by those whose identity is in line with those in authority.  It also teaches that education is in the gift of white people to pass down to others.  This simultaneously has the effect of creating an otherness to those who are not white in the ability to and the right to learn and to teach.  Even the subjects we are taught are ‘white’ – there have been non-white people in the UK for thousands of years, but we are presented only with white historical faces, white scientific faces, even white general populace faces.  Thus the privilege of presumed national identity being white, of belonging equating to personal skin colour, is perpetuated.

The ways in which we communicate are not universal.  The language that surrounds us is specific to our communities, and colloquialisms, accents, regional definitions, cultural understandings and semantics shape these.  The non-literal ways of communicating are just as diverse.  Body language has different meanings.  The tone of the voice as well as the decibel level varies as does the reasons behind those variations.  However, the perceived ‘correct’ way to communicate is that which is used by white people, and even when comparative (i.e. northern accent oppositionally set up against southern accent), the less favourable comparative white accent will be preferred to those of non-white people.  There is also a subtle presumption of intelligence  which correlates to accent and ‘correct’ English usage which perpetuates a white privilege and presumption of intelligence equating to skin colour – this is not born out statistically and takes no account of inherent discriminations affecting judgement of intelligence; thus white privilege is perpetuated.

As with education, the authority figures which most predominantly figure are white.  Education and communication bear direct relation to career and/or job.  Careers are usually defined as those paid works with vocation and/or advancement potential, whereas jobs are paid works which may remain static or advance within strictly limited parameters.  A career has a higher earning and social status potential.  Both are defined by those within them, those who create social understanding, those who are white and operate within the systems of white privilege.  Access to careers is defined by white privilege.

The economic system in which we live, capitalism, is inherited from our forebears and maintained by our governments and our financial institutions.  Within all of these is institutionalised systems of racism and white privilege.  Again, the visual representation of those institutions is of white elite, and those people carry with them the learned privileges which go along with that.

There is a black man who lives near me who can trace his family tree, in England, back over nearly 1000.  I don’t know ANYONE else who can do that.  Yet if you look at English history, you might not know that we have been a nation of immigration and emigration for thousands of years.  England is culturally diverse and always has been.  However, there is a presumption that to be English is to be white; immigration is a hot-topic issue at every election and it is always presumed that immigrants are (a) not white, and (b) going to be a drain on society.  Neither of these facts is born out by statistical or anecdotal evidence.  It is simply easier to point at a darker skin and claim they are ‘other’ and ‘foreign’.  The history we are taught at school and the stories we hear of our community history reflect that of white society.  This creates a belonging for those who reflect the image they are taught; this is fundamental to creating a society which maintains and perpetuates white privilege.

Those who create the legal system, our government, are almost exclusively white (and male, and middle-to-upper class).  All the white privilege they benefit from is necessary to maintaining their position, and it is not in the interests of those who benefit to question it.  Those who uphold the law are predominantly white, and at the moment there are at least 26 allegations of racism against the London Metropolitan Police being investigated.  The presumption is that criminals will disproportionately be black or either Middle-Eastern or appearing to be from the Asian subcontinent.  Factually, the majority of convicted criminals are white.  White privilege is blind to this however, and the drip-feeding of the biased information and reporting on crime creates a distrust which is illogical and unfounded.  Not only does this create a barrier between white and non-white, it benefits white privilege in other ways.  The presumption of distrust created affects all other areas of life for those who are discriminated against in this way; when going for job interviews, for instance, or to purchase something in a shop the white privileged person will not automatically be subject to caution, wariness and watchful eyes.  White privilege creates a lack of safety for the white person in their unfounded paranoia, and in the non-white person in the constant suspicion and well-founded feeling of persecution.  Is it any wonder that those who are mistrusted in this way mistrust white privileged society?

Tokenism is a word I hear often applied to the inclusion of non-white characters in entertainment media.  Midsomer Murders (a UK ‘gentle’ police detective series) was caught up in this row when its producer stated to introduce ethnic minorities would take away its “bastion of Englishness” characterisations.  Eastenders, one of the most popular TV programmes in the UK watched by, on average, 15% of the population, represents an East End of London which has not existed since the 1950s in its unrepresentative population.  Non-white characters are included in part because of the colour of their skin, and often are required to be representative of their entire identity group in a way that simply does not apply to white characters.  This is white privilege; it confers a responsibility on those who are not white to be and to be taken as representative, and this may often involve stereotyping or if not, is defined as opposite to stereotyping (thereby reinforcing the stereotype in any event).  White characters are complex subjects, non-white characters become representative objects.

When it comes to casting, the default position presumes a white person; very often to cast a person who is not white there must be some justification for the choice – something that means the actor being of colour is relevant to the role.  This is white privilege, this presumes that white is normative, and colour is ‘other’.

When describing someone’s appearance, in social situations or in official descriptions, so often the non-white person will be described by the colour of their skin first, whereas a white person will be given a more general description and may not even have the colour of their skin used in the description.  The identity of a non-white person is defined by their colour first; this is not the case for white people.

How is every news story presented?  It is presented in a white privileged manner.  The majority of crime reports feature, statistically disproportionately, criminals who are not white.  Domestic news predominantly covers achievements by those who are white.  Those it represents in a positive light are predominantly white.  International news features wars against those who are not white.  Charitable campaigns feature international beneficiaries who are not white (indeed mostly of African countries) and domestic beneficiaries who are white, simultaneously skewing to a perspective that non-white people are both needy internationally and either not worthy of aid or invisible if in need of aid domestically.  The ‘celebrities’ we are supposed to emulate are predominantly white, unless they feature in what are deemed ‘non-white’ pursuits such as music and sport.  Even within those, the culture of non-white origin is adopted and sold back to the consumer, and the white privilege asserts itself over the product so the non-white culture is subsumed.

What is considered ‘high art’ (that which is deemed culturally superior such as paintings hung in art galleries or works of literature by critics who are almost without exception white) is produced by white artists.  Until mid to late 20^th century, art originating from non-white cultures has been referred to as primitive art, the assumption being that the western, white cultures were more advanced and superior even in the art world; art is subjective in both interpretation and execution so this is asserting white privilege in assessing and attributing value (by all definitions) to artistry.  Characters in literature are predominantly white, and those that feature non-white characters tend to have the heroes as white, or the non-white characters being saved by those who are white; the perspective is skewed towards the white characters.  The universally available literature is white, access to more representative equitable literature is presented in ‘other’ categories such as ‘world literature’ or ‘specialist interest genres’.  White privilege is normal, anything else is ‘other’ 

I had to research for this blog, and found it surprisingly difficult.  There are lot of resources devoted to how to deal with white privilege and how to behave when one’s privileged behaviour is pointed out, but very few on how to actually recognise white privilege.

Privilege, all privilege, is invisible to those who benefit from it, because privilege is by definition the dominant and normalised standards in which we all live.  Those who benefit from privilege are included.  Those who do not, excluded.  Privilege is most notable from those who are outside, looking in, not those who are inside, looking in.  It is in the interests of those in privileged positions that their privilege is perpetuated; even those who do not want to benefit will do so.  Privilege is hidden, those who benefit can’t see it, because it is that blindness which perpetuates it.

It is important to remember that whilst white privilege exists and all white people benefit from it, having white privilege pointed out is not an exercise in blaming white people for creating or perpetuating that privilege.  I feel blame can only been assigned when one does not address and question that privilege, and does not actively try to remove that privilege where one can when one is aware of it.  It is so, so easy to be upset and offended when someone tells us that we are acting in some way which asserts our privilege.  Don’t be.  Those feelings are natural emotional responses, but in order to address the privilege we need to be able to put our hurt aside, and reflect on what we have said.  This is a learned skill, but after all, the person who is oppressed by the privilege is hurt every day by that privilege by which we benefit.  There is also sometimes a desire, an expectation, that a successful insight or act which does something to defy and deconstruct white privilege should receive congratulations and acknowledgement.  Yes, it is a great step, but it is a great personal step and the white privilege edifice remains and perpetuates.  Expecting or hoping for recognition and gratitude in itself is an act of white privilege.  It requires a universal thanks from non-white people, and again reduces the non-white population to be representative objects of the entirety as if a homogenous group.

I want to live in an equal society.  That means I need to address my privileges and stop perpetuating the hurt, pain and inequality that privilege causes.  I really want to do that.  This blog is a step in that process, flawed and incomplete and ongoing.  As am I!

Epilepsy – My Story

Time for something personal, inspired by my friend Angelika’s powerfully moving and informative film which I strongly urge everyone to watch.  For anyone with epilepsy, this may be triggering, and I intend this to be deeply personal so please, anyone who knows me personally, be aware this is my own naturally biased perspective and no criticism, if it is perceived, is intended.  Many thanks to my mum who kept a very detailed medical history of which I now have custody.

My first seizure happened just over one month after my first period, at age 11 years and 9 ½ months.  I was sat having breakfast and have a vague, fleeting memory of being loaded into an ambulance, and then being rushed into Emergency worrying about the fact my nightshirt was very short and I might be over-exposed.  My dad had found me and thanks to his early years working in the Nottingham mines as an electrical engineer he had received first-aid training in what to do in the case of seizures.  According to my mum’s medical notes, I had had slight headaches for the previous four days, but the hospital allowed me home after 2 hours.  I have very little memory of this time.  However, an EEG on 14^th March (2 ½ weeks later) showed abnormal brain waves but no treatment was prescribed.

We then went on holiday.  We stayed in a caravan park, and I had a seizure, again at breakfast.  I apparently was prescribed 1 strong librium and 2 days of weak valium by the site doctor – again I have little memory of it.  I know I was at a disco on the campsite with flashing lights the night before, but it was only later in discussion with GPs that possible causes were discussed (briefly).  At this point, there was no discussion, with me or with my parents.

The third happened in the evening of my first day back at school in the second year of secondary school (now Year 8), which was also the first day of my period, whilst watching TV.  At this point I was prescribed the medication I have become very familiar with; sodium valproate.  The initial dose was 200mg, twice a day.  Still, nothing discussed with me, but I was 12 and it was 1984; the GP’s word was (and still is) law, and you just trust them to do the best for you and to know the best for you.

The dosage didn’t work.  I had another seizure on 25^th September whilst on the toilet, having just been reading (which for me was very normal, I almost always have my head stuck in a book).  Another one followed a month later, and my dosage of medication was upped to 3 tablets a day.

Then followed the most memorable, and the most affecting seizure for me personally, that I had.  I was doing gym in school and unusually, the entire year of girls were together.  Normally there would be more streaming, but we were doing obstacle courses and every girl in my year was there (I think it may have only been my side of the school; but this still meant it was my entire female peer group).  I was actually trying hard.  I just finished my run and promptly collapsed into a seizure.  All I remember is waking slightly as I was rushed from one end of the school to the other, in a wheelchair, in my PE kit (tight top, short skirt, I was not skinny) having drooled all over my face, past older children, to the nurses room.  I was aware of this, even then.  It stayed with me, and has done so very strongly ever since.  I was left feeling very tired, and I was sent home.

Regular visits to the hospital specialists where I was weighed, blood tested, and asked about my history with regard to seizures (have I had any? How do I feel? – I always felt ‘fine’ and didn’t know what else to say as nothing was ever actually spoken about.  How would I know what to ask?), would be a feature of my adolescence.

I had no seizures for 2 years, so the decision was made to reduce my medication.  By Boxing Day 1986 I was entirely off medication.  All was well until October of the following year when I was practising my English Oral exam talk with my teacher.  I had decided to do a talk on epilepsy, and promptly gave a practical demonstration at the end of the speech.  This was to be my first attempt to bring my condition into the public arena and address the issue, which had never been referred to.  It had always seemed, to me, to be a shameful, humiliating secret.  I thus found out that my teacher, Miss Grimley, who had only been qualified for about 2 years, had epilepsy herself and knew what to do.  I got an ‘A’ grade but was not allowed to present the talk to the students “in case it happened again”, which did nothing for my belief my epilepsy was something to be hidden and never spoken about.

I then had three fits in the next month, once in a drama class, once before Sunday lunch whilst watching TV and one in the evening whilst reading the paper.  I do not remember the first two at all, but do remember the latter as I insisted on going out with my friends at 8 pm, having recovered quite quickly.  I was also stubborn, and by this point the epilepsy was affecting me personally in my development and body image very badly.  Of course, I did not tell anyone this, nor did I understand it for quite a few years.  I was put back on the same medication at the same dose as before.

Again, I had no seizures for 2 years, so as was considered normal practice I was again weaned off the drugs.  8 months respite and I had two seizures in 2 days.  Once whilst reading and once whilst studying at my desk (I was doing my ‘A’ levels at this point).  I was put back on the medication slowly increasing to the 3 a day, and I have been on this dose almost continuously ever since.  That’s 20 years of continuous medication, 29 with breaks, on sodium valproate.

Sodium valproate is no longer prescribed as a first choice to women of child-bearing age.  This is because it causes severe foetal abnormalities.  This was apparently not known when I was first prescribed the drug, or so I have been told by later GPs I have had.  I consider myself very lucky that I have always known that I do not want children, as otherwise this could have caused considerable problems.  Myriad other side effects of sodium valproate, however, were known to specialists.  When I was 18 I asked my GP about them, never having been told about them before, nor were my parents.  I have a strong and clear memory of the GP looking the side-effects up in the British Medical Association text book.  They included increased appetite and weight gain and potential liver failure, which explained why I was weighed at the hospital visit I went to every six months for my entire school career – being removed from lessons very visibly, clearly marked out as ‘different’ as if my very public seizures hadn’t already done this.  I remember my parents and sister not believing me when I first told them the weight gain side-effect.  That had a strong affect on me; I understand it was because the doctors did not tell my parents anything, nor did they ask.  They are of the generation where the doctor prescribed and the patient obeyed.  Side effects and potential psychological impact was not only not considered, it didn’t even occur to them.  However, to not be believed has led to recurring nightmares, in which I know the truth and try to tell people but am constantly, aggressively denied and called a liar.  These nightmares still continue today.

There is no dignity in seizures.  My seizures were what was known as ‘grand mal’, but are now known as tonic-clonic seizures.  This means a total loss of consciousness, full body shaking and trembling, occasionally drooling and sufferers have been known to lose control of bodily functions (although this latter distressful symptom didn’t happen to me).  The loss of consciousness, for me, was anything between 2 to 5 minutes.  To know all of my peers had seen me like this, including older students to whom I looked up, was extremely humiliating.  Worse, it was never mentioned.  Not once in my entire school career was this ever mentioned.  I was left believing I was a freak, separate, untouchable, and unwantable as well as ugly and inferior to my sister and to my female peers.  I tried to compensate by achieving well in school, and by self-denial of my inferiority by projecting a strong independent individuality, and I think I was successful at this.  Certainly, my family and friends had no idea I felt like this, and may to this day still not know.  However, I had no sense of my own identity at this stage, and saw myself only in comparison to my sister – our friends were ‘her friends who put up with me’, she was the ‘pretty and popular’ one, and intellectually our exam results were almost exactly the same (and remained so throughout our scholastic careers).  I had no identity other than that which I leeched off of her.

She was never anything other than supportive, and had no awareness of any of this.  I hid it well, from everyone.  But as we all know, that really does come and bite you in the arse in the end, and it really did bite me, hard.

I started this journey exactly one month after my first period, and had an identical twin sister without these problems to whom I constantly compared myself.  I gained a lot of weight, having always been 1 to 2 pounds lighter than her beforehand – I didn’t eat any more than she did at the time, so can only presume the medication caused this.  My physical shape and differences to my peers were exacerbated and exaggerated, and this all occurred at exactly the same time as adolescence.  My newly-developing identity and self-awareness as a woman, and all the pressures surrounding gender norms and stereotypes that comes with, were strongly impacted.  I am not surprised, looking back, that I became utterly screwed up.

You might think that finding the right dose of medication to control the seizures would be the end of the story.  Not the case, the inner journey, the mental impact of being diagnosed, of the seizures, of the side-effects, of the lack of control and information, may never stop having consequences for me.  It was not until I found the Hounds of the Morrigan re-enactment group in my final year of sixth form, and started a hobby of my own separate from my sister, that I actually started to develop a sense of my own identity and my own worth.  That group saved me far more than any of them ever realised, but my journey to full mental health took much longer.  I still did not understand the impact of my epilepsy, that took much longer.

I did not see someone have a seizure until I was at university.  In my first year, a person staying in my corridor at my halls of residence while I was away died having a seizure – he fell off the toilet and his airway was blocked.  He was found by two people who were staying in my room as I was away for the weekend.  I already knew of two people who had died having seizures.  I was aware of S.U.D.E.P.   I didn’t talk about it.  I saw an acquaintance have a seizure in a meeting of the Student Union and went into shock; the reality of what my peers had seen and of what I had looked like, and the dangers and reactions of those around ‘me’ smacked me in the face with such force I simply could not handle it.  I ran from it, again.

You can only run for so long.  I became increasingly depressed, cyclically and then permanently.  My self-image, my self-denial, my lack of identity, all not addressed, resulted in me being diagnosed with clinical depression and prescribed antidepressants, which I took for over five years.  Several different types of therapy and counselling until I finally found the right type and I eventually reached a stage of understanding and acceptance.  It doesn’t ever leave though.  I will always have problems using the singular personal pronoun (I constantly refer to myself as ‘we’), and I will probably always have a very warped view of my physical self.  But these are not unique problems, and I know that I am not the only person with mental sufferings, whatever the original cause.

It has ultimately made me stronger, more knowledgeable and more able to stand up for myself.  When I changed GP surgeries in 2006, a single blood test showed a slightly reduced amount of medication in my blood.  Instead of ordering a second blood test (the blood was taken in the morning, before eating and only shortly after taking my first tablet of the day) the GP put my medication up one tablet per day.  I was hospitalised twice with extreme migraine-like symptoms in short succession, and despite my then-fiancé and myself telling every medical professional that we believed it was a direct result of the increase in medication, not one medical professional listened.  We began to question ourselves and briefly planned to elope as we weren’t sure I would live to a wedding day (we were that scared and the pain was that bad – a couple of times my then-fiancé had seen me hitting my head on the wall to try and knock myself out, it was so painful), but stopped self-examining.  Instead, I got angry.  I took the insert from the medication, highlighted the relevant side effect and shoved it in the doctor’s face.  My medication was reduced back to 3 a day, and I have had no problems since.

My journey with epilepsy has been extremely complicated.  It has ultimately led me to be the person I am today, and I quite like that person.  It has had a direct impact on my self-image, my gender identity, my confidence, my knowledge and my strength.  Of course, I would rather not have gone through any of it, but if it meant I would not be empathic, understanding, a fighter and able to stand up for myself and others in the way I feel compelled to now, I would choose to go through the journey again.  I am aware that those of us living with long-term conditions will very frequently know more than the GP about the condition; this is only natural, they are not specialists, and cannot contain all the specialist knowledge on every condition there is in their heads, so I am now able to inform and discuss in a way that was unthinkable to my parents’ generation.

The fear of having a seizure never leaves me.  If I read or see something about epilepsy, I have the irrational initial fear that it may induce a seizure in me.  Every time I have a headache, I worry I might have a seizure, even though I know it won’t actually happen.  When I read or hear someone saying, as is common, “don’t have a fit about it” or something similar, my gut twists and I am apprehensive of being triggered and annoyed at the casual flippancy of the comment, knowing what I do about seizures.  I can’t handle being near strobe lights, and even flashing lights freak me out.  I have never worked out whether my appetite is real or medication-induced; to the point I can be woken in the night with hunger, or feel faint if I don’t eat, yet I am still and always will be overweight.  The potential to have a seizure is in everyone, but people with epilepsy have simply had that potential triggered.  Even if that trigger is known, unlike in my case, I know from speaking to other people with epilepsy that fear of being triggered simply by reading or seeing something about epilepsy exists.  It is simply something we all learn to live with.

Writing this blog piece has been unexpectedly painful and difficult.  I have been tearful at points, and I have a headache now. The reason for my having epilepsy was never diagnosed; it could have been starting menstruation and/or adolescence, flashing lights, tiredness, being bored, talking about epilepsy, over-exertion, headaches, anything.  It could even have been an accident in childhood; I only discovered recently that my mum blamed herself (I really hope she doesn’t still, I most certainly don’t) because of an accident when I was about 6 in which I was severely concussed.  The fact is no-one knows what caused it and no-one ever will.  It just is.  I have abnormal brainwaves (electrical or chemical, I don’t know) and these cause seizures unless I take my medication.  It has side-effects (the constant increased appetite is still with me) but ultimately I’d rather have those than have the seizures.  I can drive, I live what I think is a successful life.  I’m content.  What more can anyone ask?  In the final analysis, epilepsy has been fundamental in shaping who I am, for better or for worse.  If I like that person, which I generally do, then I have to accept my epilepsy within that.  That’s all there is to it!

http://www.epilepsy.org.uk/

http://www.epilepsysociety.org.uk/

Save The Library; Save The Librarian!

All over the country, libraries are being closed down because of local government cutbacks; cutbacks forced on them by national government slashing their budgets.  Often, libraries are the first to go.  They are seen as an easy target, all-too-often it is claimed they are rarely used, or as was said in my local area, are ‘white middle-class privileges’, or worst of all, libraries are held up as an either/or choice – either you have youth services or libraries, old people’s centres or libraries, community centres or libraries.  All of these were lies in my area; it is a poor borough, a multi-ethnic community and the libraries were not only already the community centres, they were the only place the poorer (who also tended because of racism/disablism to be the non-white and non-able-bodied members of the community) could get internet access for job searches, community information and for the children, the only place they could do their homework.

Did you know children are now expected to do their homework on a computer and to use the internet to research?  It’s true.  Getting rid of libraries penalises the disadvantaged almost from the day they are born.  Given 23% of the country do not have internet access and the levels of poverty and homelessness are rising, this is just going to get worse.

According to Public Library News, 397 libraries (309 buildings and 88 mobiles) are currently under threat of closure, have already been closed or have left council control since 1^st April 2011, out of a total of approximately 4,612 in the United Kingdom.  CILIP, the professional body for librarians predict there are a total of 600 libraries under threat.  My own local library is now run by a not-for-profit company by volunteers and, it was promised, one qualified librarian.  In our community, it was that or lose the library altogether.

Local areas, such as Brent, Surrey, and Doncaster, have already or are being forced to take legal action to protect the provision of library services; this action being led by myriad campaigners from all walks of life (not a viable option for my local library).  On Speak Up For Libraries Day on Tuesday 13^th March 2012, a rally and lobby of parliament is happening (please go if you are able; sadly I am not), and I want to give my voice to exactly why I love libraries and librarians, and why I don’t just believe, I KNOW that libraries are not a luxury but a necessity.  I believe access to libraries is a fundamental human right.  Here’s why:

1. Librarians will help you discover information and expand your knowledge, in the secure understanding that all that knowledge has been thoroughly checked and is fact rather than speculation or biased conjecture; or if it speculative or prejudiced, it is clear that it is.
2. Librarians can recommend fiction and advise on fictional books you would enjoy; expanding your literary understanding and life experiences.
3. The access to information, entertainment and community is free and available to all.
4. Librarians provide support, and help you develop and reach your full potential.
5. Information isn’t restricted according to whichever societal privilege you don’t have access to.
6. Libraries are community centres/book lending depositaries/free internet access sites/meeting places for like-minded people.
7. Libraries are the frontline in purveying up-to-date knowledge and imagination, and librarians are the trained individuals adept at ensuring that you have that access.
8. Libraries stay modern; new developments in technology such as the advent of the internet, the loaning of videos, DVDs, cassette tapes, CDs, Blu-Rays (and who knows what the future will hold) become freely accessible and very often tutorials in the use of new technology are available from the library.  If not, then the library will certainly have the information as to where tutorials can be accessed.
9. Libraries are networked; in local areas if you can’t find what you need in your local library, the librarian will be able to order it from another local library.

Many boroughs are stating they will keep libraries open if they are staffed by volunteers.  Not only is this taking away paid employment from a highly trained professional, this is a disservice to the local community.  Librarians don’t merely check books in and out, as the examples I give above explain.  They maintain and update libraries constantly and are a lifeline in a local community.  Relying on volunteers is putting too heavy a responsibility on a community, and is making untrained, ill-equipped people do the work that requires highly-trained and knowledgeable personnel to effectively undertake.   It is a disservice to libraries, librarians and the local communities they serve.

If you want to know more, check out Voices for the Library or go to your local library and find out what they are doing and how you can help save this vital lifeline to your community.  You may not use the library, but your community does, and you never know when you might need it.  If you don’t try to save it, one day it won’t be there and then it will be too late.

If we don’t fight for libraries and librarians, if we don’t stand up for this source of independent information, knowledge, creativity and imagination, then we will stagnate as a society and will cease to be able to develop truly independent opinions.  We will really become the sheep, incapable of independent thought, incapable of an independent opinion and unable to make a truly informed choice about anything in our lives.  That’s not what I want.  I hope it isn’t what you want either.

Save the Library.  Save the Librarian.  Please act now.  Thank you.

Million Women Rise

On Saturday 3rd March, alongside Selfridges Food Hall we gathered; many thousands of us, purple-clad or flower-adorned, ready to walk along Oxford Street, around Eros andPiccadilly Circus, and on toTrafalgar Squarefor the rally against violence perpetrated on women and children.

Never was there a safer, more friendly, more intersectionally-inclusive area for women activists, for women and children survivors and thrivers.  Many of the women and children had experienced violence at the hands of men; that is why this is a women-only march.  It gives voice and space to women who do not yet feel safe in the company of men, whose experience of men has taught them fear.  Men can accompany the march to show their support, walking alongside on the paths, and some did so (one wearing the Fawcett Society’s famous “This is What a Feminist Looks Like” T-shirt WHICH I WANT!!).  But this was about female empowerment, the female voice so often silenced, and the sisterhood rising up and shouting “no more!”

I’ve made a strictly amateur video, which I hope evokes some of the feelings the march engendered (pun intended) in me.

For 1 ½ hours we stood, reading the myriad inventive banners (my personal favourite is the vagina wall, and I want this as a quilt!  See right) and chatting amongst ourselves.  I was to have met two friends, but unfortunately (it appeared) neither was able to meet me.  So of course, being the shy retiring creature I am, I chatted to everyone around me.  Heather and Jane, who are co-editors of Women’s Views on News (which I got quite excited about, it being a pet peeve of mine that women are always “other” when it comes to news stories – a prime example is the total lack of any coverage of the MWR march), kindly allowed me to adopt them.  We chatted about how we became involved with the march; it is my second, I stewarded in 2009 from the Van which runs at the back of the march to help those with mobility problems.  I noticed we were behind the clearly labelled “Deaf Zone” and the inclusivity of the march became apparent; the rally was signed, and all accommodation for those with disabilities that could be made was being made.

By 1.30 pm we were getting a bit impatient to get on with the walking.  We had most of theWest Endto march through, we wanted to show our banners, shout our power and let the world know that violence against women was NOT acceptable.  Finally, at 1.45 pm, we moved off.

The song began, the song of the march.  Women’s and children’s voices raised up in empowered chant and it was extremely moving.  There were many thousands of us, all moving as one and all there for one reason.  It was incredible, it was a sisterhood.  I wished everyone could have been there.

Tourists, and random Londoners I am sure, took photos all along the route.  It is a busy route and none of them were expecting to see us there, but we were met with nothing but smiles and large cameras.

The sun shone down on us and it was a glorious day.  We marched, we sang, we chanted, we were heard.  A band of drummers thrummed a regular beat to which we danced, if not with our feet, with our hearts.  By this time, my arthritis was kicking in (really 3 ½ hours of standing and walking is far beyond me).  I knew this may be the last march I could do, and I was determined I was going to do it.  Then, the loveliest of surprises.  Zoe, who I had expected to meet but who had not made it, found me amongst the thousands of women and joined me for the final leg.  Although I had not been alone before, now I had a known-friend rather than stranger-friend with me.  The smile on our faces says it all really (see left. Obviously).

As we neared Trafalgar Square, we heard the soundstage and the song uplifted us even more.  We arrived, to the surprise of the many people who were merely there to see the sights.  But they stayed, as we did (as long as we could) to see the performers and to hear the testimonies, which raised us up whilst breaking our hearts.  The facts are horrifying, and I will only list a few:

• Only 6% of rape cases are ever prosecuted.
• 1 in 3 women will experience sexual assault and/or domestic violence.
• Violence against women is the most common factor in HIV infection rates; 80% of new cases are Black women.
• Globally, every year, 60 million schoolgirls are sexually assaulted at or on the way to school.

This march is a necessity, and it is a global scream of rage and strength.  We will be heard.  For more about this march, check out the website.

A young dance troupe opened the rally with a spirited and joyous dance, in honour of the International Year of the Girl Child.  This was followed by a youth action group from Leeds called The Warren Project, young women who had formed F.R.E.S.H. (Females Reinventing, Educating and Strengthening Humanity); their young voices belied the experience they should not have to have.  Myriad other groups were represented.  There were so many young people mingling with us older women.  All generations were represented, and if I ever worried about the future of feminism and activism, I stopped worrying at this point.  We are in safe hands.

It was 3.30 pm, my body was screaming with pain but my soul was dancing with joy.  Our voices, I know, were heard and our fight will go on.  I’m posting some more photos here; if you get the chance, join me next year.  I hope to walk, I will plan slightly better so that I am not standing around so long, but if I can’t walk the full distance I will be at the rally.  Join me, won’t you, please?

Maybe one day, the Million Women will not have to Rise.  Till then, I will rise with them.

Teaching a Child Respect – it’s a two-way street

“When a child hits a child, we call it aggression.
When a child hits an adult, we call it hostility.
When an adult hits an adult, we call it assault.
When an adult hits a child, we call it discipline.”

― Haim G. Ginott

(thanks to Rebekah Griffiths for inspiring this post).

NB: Trigger warning for stories of sexual violence on several of the links in this article.

On the bus the other day I overheard a woman and a young boy (about 13, still only just entering his adolescence) having a massive argument.  It appears the child and his young female friend, next to whom the adult woman had sat, had been mucking about and a pen had been thrown which landed on the floor.  For the rest of the boy’s bus journey this adult woman was loudly shouting (deliberately, to get the rest of the bus passengers to join in on her admonishments as she specifically stated more than once) at the boy calling him all manner of bad names and loudly proclaiming his utter disrespect.  The boy was retaliating.  The woman kept loudly stating how he clearly had no respect and disparaged his mother in her comments.  The boy was swearing and objecting to her comments

The little girl was sat in floods of tears next to the adult woman.  The boy got off the bus after about 15 minutes but the adult woman did not stop going on.  I got up and moved the little girl next to me so she could get away from it.

Yes, the boy behaved badly, and the little girl was extremely embarrassed about this.  The woman, however, also behaved badly (a fact that was gratifyingly pointed out to her in a calm and eloquent manner by a mother standing by her pram a bit further down the bus).  This woman behaved like a bully, and I did not blame the boy for standing up for his friend, although his methods were not the best.  Bear in mind, however, that recent scientific research has shown that teenagers are going through many, many changes and the effects of these changes on the brain make immediate thought and reasoned action harder than for adults whose brains have already undergone the horrible changes adolescence forces on (almost) all of us.  For those interested in this sort of thing, lots of articles can be found here.

When asked a question, their brains do not leap to answers as those of adults, or the brilliant randomness of responses that smaller children come up with.  Their emotions are heightened and more extreme, therefore one must assume their reactions will be.  Science knows this, but it appears society, despite all of us having gone through exactly the same changes, does not.

This occurrence got me thinking (as most things do).  We have demonised children in our society.  The riots in London and elsewhere last year saw comments about our ‘feral children’, ‘lacking respect and discipline’, splashed all over the media.  There was little insight publicised or attempted to be understood as to the reasons why that may be.  So where do they learn respect from?

Children are not raised in a vacuum which only contains their parents and their school.  They see how we act towards them, as a wider society.  They know that their futures are bleak, with youth unemployment at its highest level since 1984/85 (Office of National Statistics).

The UK is one of the few countries where smacking a child is still seen as an acceptable form of punishment of a child.  I believe the use of violence to punish a child for perceived wrong-doing merely teaches them that violence is an acceptable act.  They may even be punished for being violent by being hit, a confused message to send if nothing else.

I have seen an adult tell a child that because one or two children may have behaved badly to an adult, that adult is completely justified in terrifying any other child they may come across (see my blog post entitled The Stalker of the Child).  I know of female adolescents who are threatened with sexual violence and male adolescents who are threatened with physical violence if they do not join a gang; this leaves them with no place to be themselves and understandably removes any sense of safety they may have in the place that they live.  This is not a unique circumstance.  Communities can be terrifying; in the US for example an 11 year old girl was gang-raped, and many members of her community victim-blamed both her and her family for the incident.

Peer pressure is tremendous in adolescence.  Schools are tied in what they can do, and investment in youth projects has been slashed across the board.  Children and adolescents have no place to go unless their families can afford to pay for them to attend a variety of clubs that are either special interest or, much more rarely, general youth groups.  Even these youth groups can be places of pressure and undue influence.  The problems children and adolescents face are myriad, and are being faced by a group of people who are still developing their emotional and intellectual skills to be able to deal with the problems they may face.

Respect is earned, yet we expect our children and adolescents to respect adults without any attempt to earn it.  We shout, scream and disparage them with no knowledge of them or their backgrounds and expect them not only to sit there and take it but to learn lessons from it.  Whenever a problem in society arises which directly affects children and adolescents we find some way to blame them for it.  Who is in charge, children and adolescents or adults?  Adults, of course.  All adults.  Even those of us who might just be in their presence for a short period of time.

If we want our children and adolescents to respect us, they will need to feel they have value and that they will be respected in return.  I don’t see much of this going on, and I am therefore not surprised when the first reaction of an adolescent to a stranger spending 15 minutes disparaging him and his mother on the bus is to swear, shout and disparage back.  Respect given is respect earned.  Clearly, the only lesson this boy learned was that he is hated by adults and that he and his family do not deserve respect.  He did not handle it in the best way.  He was the child, though, she was the adult.  It was her responsibility to behave in a way which she would wish the child to emulate.  She did not show him any respect, and worse, expressed none for his mother who was not even present.  If she did not show any respect why, then, should he give it? And more significantly, how should he learn to show it?

Transphobia Is A Feminist Issue

TRIGGER ALERT – I discuss transphobic/transprejudiced statements with examples.  Plus, if my privilege shows, please let me know.  Thank you.

I was recently involved (okay, started by addressing a comment) in a debate over transgender/gender dysphoria.  Call me naive, but I am shocked by the level of ignorance, prejudice and discrimination shown with regard to transgender-identifying people and gender dysphoria.  I was aware of transphobia/transprejudice (for the sake of brevity which I sadly lack, I shall use transphobia hereon in) existing in feminist theory (mostly identified in radical feminist branches, although it certainly wasn’t a radical feminist group where the initial discussion took place).   [EDIT: These comments are taken from a discussion in a feminist group but I have edited them for brevity and clarity, and using standard practice with regard to best practice according to my understanding from textbooks and my university studies]. I had not realised just HOW prevalent it is.  I am copying some of the comments as examples of transphobic commentary as an aid to this blog post.  I have also been caught up randomly commenting on transphobic statements, so the comments are not exclusively from the feminist group.  The vast majority of comments in the feminist group were not transphobic and actively addressed the transphobia and the prejudice shown by a few commenters.

Quick definition: Gender dysphoria (also Gender Identity Disorder) = “For people with gender dysphoria, there is confusion between their sex, their gender identity and their gender role. They feel that their gender identity does not match the sex that they were born with, and they may prefer to take on a gender role that opposes the stereotypical image of their sex.  For example, a person with gender dysphoria who was born male may feel that their gender identity is female and prefer to dress in women’s clothes.” – this is according to the NHS website (page due for review 28^th April 2012).  This is a simplistic and flawed definition, in that it does not take into account the complexity of the condition, and is assumptive about gender stereotyping and definitions, a problem many of those who define as transgender come across when seeking treatment, being forced to conform to stereotypes in order to have their condition recognised and for treatment to be accessed.

Things are changing for the better.  The UK government has recently developed and implemented equality policies with regard to transgender.  Unfortunately though, transgender prejudice is still rife, and is absolutely a feminist issue (I’m not the only one who thinks this, check this blog out.

Okay then, here are some of the comments I have been addressing (comments in italic, my responses in normal text):

“I get confused when biological males say they feel like a woman. If there is no commonality to what “all women feel” then logically it isn’t possible for anyone to “feel like a woman” and therefore there’s no actual reason to transition.”

‘Feel’ isn’t used in the case of gender dysphoria as an emotional term, but as a biological one. It has nothing to do with genderised personality characteristics, it is to do with biological characteristics.  Crudely, not all women are born with vaginas and not all men are born with penises. For example studies have proven that the fact of having a penis does not equate with the inner hormonal/chemical make-up of a person.  Some transgender people don’t feel the need to have the full surgical procedures, known as ‘transitioning’, but some do.  Some may only transition through hormones, some may never be able to, for whatever reason (economic, social, medical etc.), make that step.

Gender dysphoria has emotional consequences, but it is not an attempt to match the genitalia with a social construct of gender identity, but with the biological construct.

“[transgender people] feel the urge for a body part to have a different shape … If there were a bunch of people who felt the urge to say, have a third elbow, THOSE PEOPLE wouldn’t need to claim they are a different biological sex. They would be considered the same bio sex they were born as, but needing the addition of a third elbow …So why do trans feel the urge to be recognized as a member of the sex class, or a member of the default human class, or a member of the Black class?  … Personally, I do believe some transgendered folks are indeed like this, really only needing a new body part, but society won’t let them have a third elbow without also pretending that they’re all the things associated with a different social class. But I suspect most of them have as their primary goal, the need to be perceived as a different social class. Which is sexist.”

We are all subject to the gender conditioning of our societies, those with gender dysphoria and those lucky enough to be born into the correct body.   The expressed disbelief in gender dysphoria naturally prejudices against any testimony or experience given by a transgender person.  The transphobic viewpoint disallows the existence of transgender people and will ask questions and interpret the responses on the basis of their own presumption and bias.

In the same way I, as a cisgender woman, know I am a woman, transgender women know they are women also.  The transphobic viewpoint precludes this knowledge.  (BTW – has anyone else noticed how the problem transphobic feminism has is only with transgender women, and transgender men are almost non-existent?)

 ‎“[talking from the perspective of a transgender woman] I feel like a woman BECAUSE only women suck at math and like pink and only women enjoy placing men’s needs first while placing our own needs on hold and because I prefer doing all those things then I must be a woman”. She says helpfully.  … And you need to accept me because X [I conform to ‘insert gender stereotype here’]“.

To transition in any way does not mean that person will become a gender stereotype. It merely means the physicality will finally align with the person they know they are.  Further, in order to be accepted by the medical community and believed, in order to obtain the transitioning procedure, the transgender person must live as a person identifying as the gender to which they wish to transition.  That means they must conform to stereotypes because that is how society defines the gender to which they wish to transition.  The identity to which they must conform may not be their true identity, but it is the only path available to them to transition.  To accuse transgender people of reinforcing stereotypes is a fallacious, offensive, and shows ignorance of the condition of and treatment available for gender dysphoria.

“If this is all about “physicality” …  and a man requires boobies to feel whole, then why doesn’t he just say “hey I’m a guy who needs boobies to feel whole”? But we notice no transgendered individual actually says that. What they say instead is that “hey I feel like a woman” except they fail to define what is meant by “feeling like a woman””

The transphobic viewpoint continually denies the identity of anyone who is transgender; repeatedly a transphobic woman is called a man.  Transgender women are not biological males, they have always been women but their physicality did not reflect that. That is the dysphoria.

Those who transition are transitioning to their natural biological gender, not away from it.

“ I do not accept transgenders are the same as me because they do not have a shared experience of female from birth. That doesn’t make me a bigot. It simply makes me rational. I have no hatred for transgendered people. I do believe they need to stop trying to fit the stereotypes of “only two sexes” patriarchy forces upon us and define another gender all their own … Arguing that the m2f body is not male is not going to work. It is xy. No changing that. A focus on changing the genitals is a typical male way of assuming that’s what defines being woman …. No amount of surgery can provide the ability or experience of birth … when our breasts first begin to grow or we have our first period. It won’t provide the knowledge we are the nurtures of new life. Surgery also will not rescind the experience of male privilege or keep someone from continuing to use that learned trait against born women. The assumption by too many m2f is they have the right to dominate women and to redefine what woman means. …  Women are tired of men who want to dominate, control and define women. Those traits don’t become more attractive simply because the man has made himself a eunuch.”

Transgender-identifying people will or won’t conform to gender stereotypes, the same way cisgender-identifying people do.  Not all transgender women fit the stereotype of the gender to which they transition, any more than all cisgender women do.  Any basic study or exposure to transgender issues would show this.  Calling mtf transgender identifying people eunuchs is blatantly offensive.

As a cisgender woman, I have experiences common with some other women and not with others; no woman will have exactly the same experiences and suffer exactly the same oppressions as another.  Culture/’class’/disability/race/sexuality – so many things influence us. If the argument is that transgender women should not call themselves women but choose another gender-identifier, surely then these other influences would mean there needs to be many more gender-identifier descriptors in order to satisfy the myriad experiences and differences that exist between those defined as ‘women’? Some people do define outside the gender binary, with “genderqueer” and other such descriptors.  However, mainstream, dominant, society defines legally and socially by two broad descriptors; man/male and woman/female.  It is an entirely other debate as to whether that is useful or not, or whether it should be perpetuated or not.  It is not a debate over the right of transgender people to identify by whichever gender binary, it is a debate about gender definitions and humanity.  All humanity.

The conflation of binary biological sex and fluid sociological gender is sadly common a common one from which much transphobia is derived.  Gender dysphoria is not a choice.

Transphobic views define the experience of transgender and gender dysphoria entirely on the biased suppositions and reductive experiential gender norms of their non-acceptance that gender dysphoria exists.   Transphobia denies the right and existence of transgender people by denying gender dysphoria exists.

It is true there is solid scientific evidence to show there are basic biological/physiological differences between man and woman, and solid sociological evidence to show how our experiences also define our genders. It is the experience which gives us the differences within the binary gender definition of man/woman.  It is not as simple as that though.  Studies of gender dysphoria have proven that transitioning people have such things as brain chemistries and hormone levels of the biological gender to which they wish to transition.  It is not a man transitioning to a woman, but a woman transitioning to the body which she should have be born into but by quirk of nature, fate, biological accident in the womb or whatever reason, she wasn’t. The same for ftm. There are many cisgender women who are unable to have periods, or children, or develop breasts but no-one would deny their womanhood as a result of the medical deviations from their biological gender.   Where is the line drawn with regard to transphobia?  These women are not denied their identity, their gender, because of such ‘lacking’ in biological fact.

I freely admit TGs have unique experiences. I do not try to define or control their experiences. By the same token, I refuse to allow a relatively small number of TGs (in comparison to the billions of born women) to define and control what it means to be woman … Women matter. Our biology and physiology matter. Our life experiences matter, as do our opinions. We don’t need to be told our born experiences do not matter because someone else wants to co-opt the definition of woman.

So it would seem transphobia states whilst it is not trying to define the experience of those with gender dysphoria, by denying the condition exists it does exactly that.  Transphobia defines m2f as men who have transitioned to appear to be women, but stills states they are men.  It assumes a commonality of experience for all women which would preclude transgender women from being ‘women’; in itself this is problematic and denies intersectional prejudice and different physicalities and biologies of cisgender women.  It also seems to derive from a fear; a fear that somehow transgender women are seeking to ‘outrank’ and ‘control’ cisgender women.  This is ultimately derived from the belief transgender women are not women and as a belief is self-fulfilling, self-defeating and circular.  Transphobia feeds transphobia, based on ignorance, fallacy and conflation.

The italicised comments are among the milder I confronted – other words and definitions I felt compelled to confront included ‘freaks’, ‘subhuman’, ‘different species’, ‘affront to women’, ‘offensive’ – you get the picture.

Transphobia has no place in feminist theories, and I will confront it where I see it.  I believe transphobia is reductive and limiting to feminism.   I will continue to say gender dysphoria is not a choice.  Transphobia  is.  I know which side I’m on.

When did I know he was ‘the one’?

I’ve just been reading a blog in which men posted their stories of when they realised their girlfriend was ‘the one’.  I am assuming such stories are interchangeable with regard to sexuality, but as the blog was heteronormative in posting, and as my relationship is heterosexual, we’ll stick with those terms.

It got me wondering – what would my partner write about when he knew I was the one?  We do talk about it sometimes, as he is an incurable romantic with a brilliant memory for such things (me, not so much…), and being the egoist I always want to hear!  But when did I know he was the one?

The truth is, I don’t think there is any one moment when I realised he was the one, the person to whom I would plight my troth, with whom I would tie the knot and with whom my life would become forever entwined.  I think, honestly, that those around me probably understood the truth of my relationship before I did.

Some background – I met my partner when I had just turned 32.  I had never before in all my life been involved in a relationship that lasted more than four months.  I was a running joke with lots of my friends, and I joined in that joke because I, by that point, was completely happy with the idea that I would not have a long-term relationship.  I didn’t need one; I knew what I wanted and didn’t want and was not prepared to compromise.  Fun would still be had.  I firmly believed, and still do believe, that a long-term relationship is not essential to happiness or contentment, but that it can enhance both if it is the right one.

He, on the other hand, was a bit of a serial monogamist.  Lots of long-term relationships; we’d even drunk at the same pub 10 years previously (Dew Drop Inn for those in the know) and having seen photos of him was GORGEOUS and exactly the person I would have flirted incredibly outrageously with, but we never met.  Neither of us was ready.  Both of us needed to go through our ‘issues’ before we would be able to be ourselves and therefore be fully committed to a relationship.  I had many issues…  Not least of which was a total lack of belief in myself as a partner early on (which was resolved quite early too, about 6 years before we met) but I then had many physical issues (I may blog about some of them) which also needed to be resolved and affected my body image severely.  Strangely, I never had issues with regard to sex; I always thought once you’d both reached that point it didn’t matter, we all have body image issues and the fact we had reached that point meant the ‘turned on’ outweighed the ‘body paranoia’!  I apologise to my parents if they are reading this, by now you know more than you ever wanted to!

It is not only important for someone to be ‘the one’ but also that you meet them when you are ready in yourself for that ‘one’ relationship.  If you are the type of personality who would suit a ‘the one’ relationship.  For some people, a lifelong commitment is not for them.  I always knew that if I ended up in a ‘the one’ relationship it would be monogamous, but never thought I needed a ‘the one’.  That is also important to me – needing a person is not healthy, wanting them but not needing them is.  I never want to be without him, but I know if I was I could cope with life (I wouldn’t want to, but I could).

I was very confused early on in the relationship.  I was used to realising quickly in relationships that it was fun, but that it would end due to differences which were currently minor but which would grow to problems (pretty much the ending was always my decision; looking back I made those decisions occasionally for the wrong reasons and under assumption rather than knowledge, and may have hurt people – I projected onto them and I pre-emptively struck the relationship off my list).  I didn’t want this one to end.  It just kept going, and it grew, almost organically and almost in spite of myself.  I just didn’t want him to go.  He didn’t complete me (I was already complete by this time, thank you very much), but he made my life better.  I remember discussions with friends where I literally didn’t know what I was doing with him, because I had never gone past the four month barrier and this was all new ground.

I decided to see how it went, and not to put any pressure on it.  Let it develop, organically, don’t set up problems or try to see the future.  The future will happen anyway, I might as well concentrate on the present!

I don’t remember who said ‘I Love You’ first (he probably does).  I do know we say it to each other every morning before whichever one of us is going to work leaves, and end every text with it, and say it many times to the point of probably making everyone around us physically sick.  We say it because it is true, and because we want the last words to be ones of love.  We have both experienced early deaths of people close to us.

I met his family early on.  Two weeks after our first date, to be exact.  He has since told me that his father said to him as I left that it was clear I was ‘the one’.  He did not tell me that for a number of years, because frankly that would have made me run a mile!  His father passed away a year after we met, about four days after both sets of parents met for the first time and after our first performance of our first play with a new theatre group just formed – I was Titania, he was Oberon.  It means so much to me that his father said that.  He knew I was the one, as did my partner.  After two weeks, I would not have known that. By the time of the play, I had a pretty good idea he might be.

I remember walking up the road towards his flat after we had been together about five months, idly chatting about the future, and the words “when we are married…” just slipped out.  Me, a person who had always said I probably would never get married.  Not because I didn’t want to, or thought that there was anything wrong with the institution (apart from the fact it is not available to those in same-sex relationship; that is and always shall be a shameful discrimination which should be stopped), but merely because it did not seem necessary to me and I had never met anyone I thought I would be able to make that sort of lifelong commitment too.  I was very embarrassed, and turned into Hugh Grant stuttering like a fool in an attempt to cover it up.

I think that, given the above story, it could probably be said that I proposed to him.  However, he did propose to me.  He took me to a jewellery shop and I picked out a ring (he has an engagement ring too, but chose not to have one that can be worn on his finger; shocking!).  I can’t remember if I took the ring off, or if he had it in a box already (my memory is that of a sieve), but I ended up organising a dinner out for some friends which turned into a surprise engagement dinner.  Our friends were so excited they kept hinting at my partner to propose, making arch comments which I did not pick up on at all (honestly, it’s a miracle I can breathe and walk at the same time).

He told me about four years later that he had been to the shop first and picked that ring, and asked the shop assistant to place it where it was visible to me.  I looked around the whole shop, and picked that exact ring.  He just knew.  He always knows.  I find that comforting.  If he was not the one, I think that might be creepy!

He has never, ever been afraid to be public about his love for me, nor I him, but we are not cloying (I hope).  We are still individuals, but together we are better.  We support one another, give strength and love, but do not smother or demolish dreams because they are ‘impractical’.  We discuss, talk things through, and have the same guiding principles.  Our future plans – no children, places we want to travel, him being the main homemaker, me being the main breadwinner (although frankly I feel those roles are so complimentary it almost seems silly to separate them) etc., coincide.  He is as much of, if not more so, a feminist as I am.  He gets me when I say I find the use of the ‘Mrs/Miss’ terms fundamentally discriminatory and perpetuates inequality, whilst being against prohibition of the use of those terms (the woman’s right to choose does not end with reproductive decisions).  Our principles match, our ‘big life decisions’ match.  If they hadn’t matched, then he would not have been ‘the one’, it’s as simple as that.

Relationships, if they are right, in my opinion shouldn’t seem like hard work.  Yes, you may have to discuss, disagreements will happen, but if it seems like hard work to be with them then perhaps being with them is not the right decision.  We argue (generally about semantics; yes we are that pedantic) but resolving issues is never hard work, it just is what happens.  I know he is the one, and therefore any work is not work, it’s just a part of the relationship which happens, and I never lose sight of the fact he loves me completely (hard to lose sight of something which is constantly being said in front of everyone you know; copious ‘vom’ comments on FB statuses will attest to that).

When did I know he was the one?  There is no one point in time I can look to and say “yes, that was it, then”.  It crept up on me.  My subconscious knew before I did.  What I do know is that, as a friend of mine recently put, “we make each other better” (said friend was intoxicated, bless him).  All I do know is that if I think of my life without him in it, my mind shuts down to fend off the panic attack.  He is the one.  I know it, from the innermost reaches of my emotions to the outermost areas of my life.  It doesn’t matter when I knew it.  I just did and do and always will.

He doesn’t know I wrote this.  I wonder what his reaction will be?

The Stalker of the Child

Yes, I am continuing my fine tradition of being all interfere-y and refusing to keep my sticky beak out of it.  No, I am not the person to whom I refer in the title of this blog, you cheeky gets!

So, I’m stood at the bus stop, after a long day at work being all responsible and legalish, waiting for my carriage to take me to hearth, home and lovely snuggly husband.  I become aware of raised voices behind me.  I wait, keeping my body turned away (it was a walking stick day) until I hear the words “You come near my daughter again and I’ll…”.  Child.  That’s like a red rag to me.  I look round, expecting to see a couple of kids harassing another kid, whose mother has stepped in.

Oh, how wrong I was.  This tiny, tiny 13 year old girl is in near hysterics, which develop into full-on hysteria as time goes by.  Her mother is shielding her and moving away from a very large adult woman aged at least over 25, who keeps moving towards her.  Every time the woman and her daughter move, this stalker (as she shall now be known) moves towards her.  This scenario keeps looking more and more threatening, and frankly I am not the kind of person who can stand by and let such situations develop, walking stick and challenged stature notwithstanding.

The stalker is stood about 3 inches away from the mother, who has her arm around her hysterical daughter and is clearly very, very angry but making no physical moves apart from the attempt to get away (thwarted at every turn by the stalker, who keeps looking at the daughter).  The mother and daughter are now trapped between the bus stand, a telephone junction and people behind them.  So I sidle over, saying nothing and making no eye contact, and slip my walking stick in between the mother and the stalker.  Slowly I edge forward, until I am fully in between them, still saying nothing but making my presence VERY obvious.  After a couple of minutes, I ask the mother if she is okay.  She is not, and again tries to walk away from the stalker, clutching her daughter VERY tightly.  They end up a good 4 metres away, to no avail as the stalker carries on the slanging match and follows.  No matter where the mother and daughter move, she is there, too close and very threatening.

The mother has had enough, and by this time I have overheard that this woman regularly follows her daughter home from school, getting on her daughter’s bus and has even at one point pulled the little girl’s hair.  The mother calls the police, and I go over to say I have heard and seen everything, and am perfectly willing to be a witness.

The mother starts to tell me the full history, confirming what I had overheard.  It has also become painfully apparent that the stalker has mental health problems.  That is no excuse, but may provide an explanation.

The mother has reported a previous incident to the police, and been told that they can’t do anything because the stalker has mental health problems.  That is a disservice to the stalker; she clearly needs help.  This becomes more apparent as I am told the stalker has previously stalked another girl from the time the other girl was in Year 5.  She has also, allegedly (because this is hearsay and I have no proof), got a conviction for previously attacking another child.  It is painfully obvious this woman needs help.

I am going nowhere until I have either seen the police or seen the mother and daughter safely on to the bus to their home without being followed; I really don’t care how long it might take, I am not putting up with this.  The police don’t come, and the stalker stands about three metres away, constantly looking around but by this time silent.  The daughter is just about starting to calm down, so I do my usual “attempt to make them laugh” whilst trying to cover up my utter shock at the attitude of the police and the inadequacy of mental health services.  I work in Lewisham Centre, between the daughter’s school and the bus stop where the daughter has to get the bus.  I give her my name, work address, details of where the office is EXACTLY, my work land line and my mobile number, and tell her if she is being followed or if she feels threatened at all in any way, to come to the office and I will call her mother while she is in safety.  I tell the mother exactly what I have done and suggest they call me on Monday to confirm the information is bona fide.  The mother works, she can only collect her daughter on Mondays and Fridays.  It is not always practical for people to arrange someone to pick up a child from school.  I wanted to ensure she could feel safe, and that her mother was happy with the arrangement.  I did wonder if that was maybe going too far, but you know what? I don’t think it was.  If ANY child I know and love is at any time feeling threatened, I hope they might have a contact of safety.  I hope no-one I know is ever in need of such a bolthole, but I am glad I had the opportunity of providing one.  If it is never used, it is there.

There are people all around us, and some school-friends of the girl come over (they were not there before).  It is confirmed they have seen the stalker before.  Neither the daughter or the mother have any idea who the stalker is.  She picked the daughter out completely at random.

We are surrounded by people; a young tall skinny alternative-looking man (who may have been responsible for the very strong smell of a certain substance that wafted by occasionally, which mother and I had joked out of earshot of daughter about) made it clear he, too, was keeping an eye out.  I became aware of how many people there were around us, no-one being as interfere-y as me of course, who were keeping a subtle eye out.  Community at its best.

At no point did anyone make any threat towards the stalker.  Then a woman who obviously knew the stalker came up to talk to her, and jokingly asked if she was all right and if any of the kids has been harassing her again.  As she said this to the stalker, she looked towards the daughter probably not realising what the impact of what she was saying was having.  The mother naturally stood up for her daughter (never at any time making any move away from cradling her daughter as close to her as she could); there is a history of harassment and her daughter has never harassed anyone.  The woman accepts this.  However, she states, loudly and many times, that the stalker has been harassed by schoolchildren before, and therefore it is perfectly acceptable, understandable, and the fault of the daughter for being a schoolchild that she is being stalked, and has been physically assaulted before.  Further, because the woman has mental health issues, she cannot be held responsible and it is unfair if any steps be taken to try and stop the woman doing this.  The daughter should just put up with it.

I cannot believe my ears.  I think my jaw bounced off the floor at least twice.  This is an adult woman stating that because a few, a minority, of children have behaved in a disgusting manner towards someone with mental health issues then ALL children will just have to put up with criminal, threatening behaviour.  However, I don’t need to say anything and can concentrate on the mother and daughter because the young man immediately steps in and takes quite a lot of verbal abuse, deflecting the attention.  Eventually this idiot moves on.

We are still waiting for the police.

The stalker moves away to sit at a bus stop, and two other school-girls who have never met the daughter before stay near us, checking occasionally without drawing attention to themselves where the stalker is.  Yes, school-children, you know, those ones that deserve to be harassed because a couple of kids behave badly.  Well, there are adults in prison who have behaved badly, and no-one thinks ALL adults should just put up with assault, stalking, being threatened and harassment just because some adults have been harassed.  I do not subscribe to that point of view.

The stalker is so obviously in desperate need of help; there is a clear pattern of behaviour and it is not helping her at all to excuse, accept and ignore this behaviour.  She needs help.  She is not getting it.  I assume she must actually do someone a serious injury before she gets any help.

Finally, after 50 minutes, the stalker gets onto a bus and leaves.  The daughter, who has calmed down considerably, visibly relaxes.  I suggest that the mother and daughter get on the next bus to their home and phone the police from there.  They have all my contact information, I assure them I will be a witness, and the mother is happy that her daughter seek refuge in my solicitors office if she needs it.  I see them off, adamant I am NOT LEAVING until I see them both safely onto their bus.  I did not see the stalker get on the bus, and I am not taking any chances.  I have no idea what I would do if actually confronted, but I believe that the mere presence of witnesses can do a lot to deter action.  There were a lot of people around, but sometimes a word, a look, an assurance that yes you have noticed and no you are not going to stand by and let it happen, is enough.  They leave, smiling and thanking me.  I don’t think I need thanking.  I am sure if I hadn’t stepped in, someone else would have.  There were others around, keeping an eye out.  I think I just got there first.

The police never turned up.  Apparently, and this is what they told the mother, there was a serious car accident in Lewisham, and some other incidents, so the largest police station in Europe which was located 200 yards walk away from where we were stood could not provide even a special constable to come and ensure that a child who was being harassed and stalked by a known stalker was okay.

Hmmmm….

Why I Believe Sex Work Should be Legalised

This is one of the beliefs of Sex Positive Feminism, which my last blog listed as point 3, and which I said I would come back to as (a) the previous post was over 2000 words long ; and (b) this point alone is probably going to be near that length too.

Legalising sex work is controversial.  There is so much wrong with the current mainstream sex industry; as with all other areas of society (and remember, please, I can only write about what I know so this is from my perspective as detailed in the “Who I Am” section of this blog) it exists within the inherent gender/heritage/race/ability/sexuality etc. discriminations that ALL systems and institutions are influenced by.  That is crucial; all institutions and systems are subject to and either wittingly or unwittingly perpetuate the discriminations even if they specifically attempt to address the discriminations.  Societal change is slow, there is no either/or, just gradual evolving.  Sex work is merely one such institution, and because of the overt gender and sexuality prejudices they have been the most obviously utilised and widely accessible examples of perpetuation of the discriminations.  However, that does not mean they are defined by those discriminations, any more than gender-stereotyping occupations such as nursing, plumbing, secretary, midwife, fireman, milkman, binman, postman (see the connection developing here?) are defined by the stereotype.

But what exactly is sex work?  Historically, it has been defined as prostitution and pornography.  However, one could extend this definition to include anything in which sex features as part of a person’s labour by which they derive their income; ‘sex sells’ is a frequent mantra of advertising, so is it sex work to take part in advertising campaigns which either explicitly or implicitly use sex as a tool of selling?  Is it sex work to be part of creating a scene in a film which has sexual content in it?  Celebrity culture derives much of its material from sex and lust – is that sex work?  Magazines on shelves aimed at men which are not defined as being in the pornographic industry, such as FHM or Loaded, feature pictures on their covers which are frequently indistinguishable from the covers of porn magazines just one or two shelves up.  Are the creators, producers and participants partaking in sex work?  Although acts of sex such as kissing and touching may be involved in such labour, it seems that the definition of sex work is when actual acts of physical or verbal sexual intercourse (not necessarily penetrative) occur; when the sexual activity is ‘real’ as opposed to ‘acting’ on the part of at least one participant (for example, with phone sex lines one of the participants may well be doing no more than reading a script).  Even that line has been blurred in modern production, and is becoming more so.  There are also other types of labour in the sex industry which are not illegal nor involve sexual activity, such as shop workers in establishments selling sex-related products.

As I am talking about legalising sex work though, it should be assumed I am discussing pornography and prostitution.  Even then, the laws with regard to pornography are complicated.  In the UK much pornography is legal which leads me to conclude it’s already okay to engage in sex for money as long as it is filmed or photographed for distribution.  That’s bizarre to me…

Therefore, it seems, this blog is about legalising prostitution, that being the only form of sex work which is actually illegal (and may also have the largest introduction to a blog in the history of blogging).

For background, here is a brief summary of my understanding of sex positive feminist beliefs with regard to sexual behaviours, from my previous blog:

1. Sex Positivism is about informed consenting sexual activity.
2. Sex Positivism is not about moral judgements.
3. Sex Positivism is about fostering healthy attitudes towards one’s body and one’s sexuality.
4. Sex Positivism is about autonomy over one’s own body.
5. Sex Positivism is about accepting that people, all people, of all shapes, sizes, sexualities etc. are sexual beings and have a right to express their sexuality without moral judgement or impingement.

‘Prostitute’ is the only job title which is considered an insult (except maybe ‘banker’), and it is gendered.  Male prostitutes exist, but the gender has to be stated in order for it to be understood the worker is male, either that or such terms as ‘rent boy’, ‘escort or ‘gigolo’ are employed.  For male prostitutes, the assumption is that it is a gay activity, and homophobia comes in to play, or their job is seen as servicing older woman and possibly is a good thing, because of course men are supposed to be highly sexed and are ‘allowed’ to have sex with more than one partner without being married or in an emotionally attached relationship.  Women do employ prostitutes, increasingly so as it becomes more acceptable for women to have sex lives, but still there is the slut/stud dichotomy that is never so obvious in relation to sex workers.  I see ‘prostitute’ as a job title akin to my own (Litigation Assistant according to my firm’s website), and that is how the term is being used in this blog.

In order for legalisation of prostitution to work, social attitudes towards gender/sexuality and sex must change.  As was shown when Amsterdam legalised the sex industry, social attitudes were not addressed and this meant any complaints of abuse made by the prostitutes were subject to the same discriminations as before.  If the law is changed, it must be enacted; many prostitutes in Amsterdam found their complaints were discounted, treated as ‘part of the job’ or it was considered they had ‘deserved it’.  These attitudes are prevalent with regard to sex workers.  Legalising would be a start in giving sex workers protection, but are part of the bigger change towards creating non-discriminatory attitudes towards sexuality.

If a person visits a prostitute, the reason for the visit is not the responsibility of a prostitute.  Society would not judge a plasterer, for example, who visits a property to fix damage caused by a domestic violence incident.  There are myriad reasons for employing a prostitute, none of them the responsibility of the prostitute.  Such reasons should not be an influence when making laws regarding sex work and/or prostitution.  They are more to be understood in the context of sex education, and the broader issues involved in relationship & life skills learning.

The reasons why one may become a prostitute are also myriad.  Here is where freely-given informed consent comes in.  The illegality of prostitution means it is not an option people can make when considering paid employment choices.  This means that many people who do choose the option do so from a position of desperation.  For those people, informed consent is subject to pressure and is not freely given.  Extreme debt, drug addiction, history of abuse; these all may restrict a person’s ability to give free informed consent.  However, it is possible that a person with such influences has given free informed consent; to assume not is to assume knowledge of someone one cannot have unless one is close to the prostitute.  Legalising prostitution would help people escape from the trap they may have fallen into as a result of such pressures; no criminal record would help in job applications and combined with a social policy of non-judgemental acceptance, the stigma attached to sex work would (slowly) recede.

The illegality of prostitution in part enables the abuse to continue.  Trafficked sex workers, underage sex workers – these are not sex workers and I do not agree with the reference to the same.  They are abuse victims, they are rape victims.  It is commercialised rape, and is not part of the sex work industry.  At the moment though, they are considered to be, and it is down to the fact it is a blanket illegality.  Legalising prostitution would not legalise these aspects of the industry; in fact it would free up vital resources for detecting and prosecuting these abuses.

Not forgetting our basic right to autonomy over our own bodies.  If a person chooses to become a prostitute, then it is their absolute right to do that with their body.  Any employment we may take up uses a physical part of ourselves in one way or another.  It is the moral rules built up around sex which have caused sex work to become an employment which is negatively morally judged.  There are those who have historically and do currently choose to work in the sex industry; freely and with informed consent.  It is every person’s right to make that choice, and to make that choice illegal removes a fundamental right to body autonomy.

If prostitution is to be legalised, it must be regulated and the voices of the prostitutes must be heard in designing these regulations.  The protection of both sex workers and those who employ them is paramount.  I feel it is of principal importance that the prostitute be the one with charge of their employment.  Undue pressure can be exerted by employers in the quest for profit and/or business (as I am sure we can all recognise from our experiences of legal employment, although I am currently in the blissful position of loving my paid employment and being able to respect those for whom I work; I am fully aware of how lucky I am!).  The prostitute must be in charge of deciding what services they will or will not offer.  It may be that contracts between the prostitute and employer of their services should be drawn up; the practicalities of such arrangements notwithstanding, it would provide the prostitute with further protection in the victim-blaming sexual abuse culture we currently endure and ensure the client has a clear understanding of what they have contracted to partake in.  Regular STD testing would be required and legalising sex work would make access to such services and certificating the same (as is already part of the porn industry) far easier.

There would no longer be a fear for the prostitute who wishes to utilise the safety of collectivism and group protection which at the moment leaves them open to charges of running brothels.  The illegality of prostitution forces many to put themselves into dangerous situations, which again because of victim-blaming sexual abuse culture means if they are attacked or abused they have little or no recourse.  The worker on the street or the woman ‘employed’ by a pimp is in potential danger, and can have free informed choice taken from them at least in part (I am not ignoring the impact sex stereotypes has on this) because of the illegality of their job.

The illegality of prostitution in itself can make it titillating (for those who find the sense of disapproval and illicit thrill titillating).  The success of Belle du Jour, best-selling books and two TV series and counting, and the eroticism of ‘high class’ prostitutes introduces a peculiar dichotomy; on the one hand she is titillating, naughty, the ‘acceptable’ face of selling sex, on the other hand she is selling sex, she is a prostitute and all that job title implies.  How is it that she can remain illegal and yet be so acceptable?  Many of those people who enjoy the books and TV series are those who wish prostitution to remain illegal.  As long as the idea of a prostitute who freely chose that job is fictionalised, it seems it is acceptable.

Of course, legalising sex work will not result in overnight societal change.  I believe any results from such changes may take two or three generations to begin to emerge.  But for the safety of those already in the industry, for the perpetuation of gendered and homophobic stereotyping, for the right to body autonomy we all have, for the development of a sexually non-judgemental society, for all the reasons I have given, legalising and regulating sex work should happen.

My name is Tina and I am a Sex Positive Feminist

For some reason, this statement is likely to cause offense, outrage and confusion amongst many people; opposition to this may even unite groups most normally seen in the media as being in opposing camps.  Many people may not even know what “Sex Positive” means.  I only found out about this definition of beliefs and activism about 18 months ago, and upon researching it realised as a label it broadly defines how I feel about sex, female (and male) autonomy and attitudes towards sex.  I find such labels useful as jumping-off points to discussion, as we all define terms in different ways (although for some reason ‘feminism’ seems to be defined in mainstream media and society by those who oppose equality rather than those who define themselves as ‘feminists’; I suppose that’s only to be expected, the oppressor/privileged sets the agenda for the society over which it exercises its privilege, after all).

So, what is sex positivism?  I could post a ton of net links to various sites to explain it, but you don’t read my blog (all two or three of you) to get someone else’s ideas.  Here, then, are mine.

1. Sex Positivism is about informed consenting sexual activity.
2. Sex Positivism is not about moral judgements.
3. Sex Positivism is about legalising sex work.
4. Sex Positivism is about fostering healthy attitudes towards one’s body and ones sexuality.
5. Sex Positivism is about autonomy over one’s own body.
6. Sex Positivism is about accepting that people, all people, of all shapes, sizes, sexualities etc. are sexual beings and have a right to express their sexuality without moral judgement or impingement (see point 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5; in fact, these points all cross-over as you will read).

Guess which one usually gets the most complaints and causes the most outrage in debates?  Yes, that’s right, point 3.  Let’s take it point by point, saving 3 for last as it is the most juicy.

1 – INFORMED CONSENT (I’m capitalising because this is VERY IMPORTANT!).

This is the primary, number one, consideration, from which all else follows.  Sex Positive means informed, consenting sexual activity.  This precludes those who are unable, for whatever reason, to give informed consent.  Children cannot give informed consent.  Animals cannot give informed consent.  Trafficked slaves forced into sex work cannot give consent (and personally I dispute the definition of these people being in sex work – it is commercialised rape).  Anyone under any form of external duress directly related to the situation cannot give informed consent; for example putting pressure via emotional or physical violence disempowers, and those under duress cannot give informed consent.  Abuse of a position of power (college professor and student/boss and employee) by the consentee removes the ability of the consenter to give informed consent.

Informed consent means having all the information one feels is necessary to oneself in order to give informed consent to a sexual activity.  This means knowing all the information which may exist which may cause harm to the consenter if they knew the same and which would alter their decision to give consent – such as whether the potential sexual partner has a sexually transmitted disease or a partner with whom they do not have an open relationship.  The decision whether to consent to sexual activity is then made with all the necessary facts available.  However, some people consent if they know a partner is not in an open relationship, and informed consent does not mean there is a universal moral rule which can apply.  Different folks like different strokes (phnar), what is acceptable for one will not be for another.

Informed consent means the ability to give the same – if a person is very intoxicated on whatever substance THEY CANNOT GIVE INFORMED CONSENT.  If in doubt, don’t do it, even if they tell you the next morning they really wanted to (which, if so, wahay!  Informed consent obtained, let the sexy-time begin!).

Informed consent means knowing one’s own sexuality, what one is comfortable with, and feeling one is in a safe environment and one is able to give that consent.  It does not describe the behaviour to which that consent is given.

Most importantly, the only way informed consent can be given is if sex education is given from as soon as children are old enough to ask question, in an age-appropriate fashion of course.  After all, how can a person give or deny consent if they don’t know what they are or are not consenting to, and the implications of the same?  Informed consent requires information; the clue is in the title!

Informed consent is the ability to say “yes”, to say “no”, and to say “maybe, but I want to know more first before I can decide” and to know that that decision will be respected and adhered to.

2 – Not making moral judgements.

Bloody religionists, coming along, spoiling everything with their judgemental, sexist, party-pooping…

Of course, not all religious people are judgmental (although it is in the job description especially for those involved in the organisation of religious beliefs).  However, most laws and social norms surrounding sex and sexual activity have their basis in religion, as that is historically from where our law derives.  Non-heteronormative, non-marital, non-male sexual activity, that’s what I’m talking about here.  Such judgements create misery and deny love and sexual pleasure.  These are (given point 1) not crimes (or shouldn’t be if they are, as they are victimless and the laws derive from prejudice) and are discriminatory.

There are differing standards in our society for sexual behaviours (by which I mean with whom you have sex not the actual positions said horizontal jiggling may include) – women are sex objects and have a passive role, whereas men are sex subjects and take the active role.  As for non-heterosexual sexual activity, well when such relationships are not accorded equality in law is it any surprise social judgement persists in condemning them.  Slut-shaming, victim-blaming, anti-choice crusading, hate crimes, homophobic violence – all these come from irrational moral judgements deriving from religious and social judgement.  All are wrong and infringe the basic human right a person has to express their sexuality in any way which is their own.

Sex positivity recognises we all have different sexual desires, dreams, wants and needs.  It is about allowing those needs, accepting the difference and not judging, condemning or denying the liberty people should have to meet those needs in a healthy and informed way.

3 – Legalising Sex Work

All sex work should be legalised.  This, however, is to be subject to its own blog post, as I just KNOW there will be controversy.  If anyone actually reads this blog, that is.  Otherwise, it’ll be useful for me to refer to in future debates.  Mass debates may be particularly fun…

4 – Healthy Attitudes towards Sex and Sexuality

“What is a ‘healthy’ attitude?” I hear you both cry (having lost one reader since paragraph 1 of this epic).  “Good question” I respond, feeling sure I am talking to myself.  In the context of this blog, I expect to develop hirsute palms and go blind very shortly.

In my opinion, a healthy attitude towards sex and sexuality is one which does not judge, has no moral imposition, is one which knows oneself and what one wants and doesn’t want, and has confidence and understanding in one’s ability to give informed consent.

A healthy attitude is one which does not hate one’s body because it does not conform to society’s ideal of what one should look like.  Physical conformity is impossible for the vast majority of society, whatever the norm happens to be, because humans come in a huge variety of shapes, sizes, shades, and physicalities.  There is no norm other than that which is socially created and perpetuated.

It is impossible to have a truly healthy sex life if you hate how you look.  You can never really relax and allow your body to feel the experience, if you are constantly worrying if your stomach is going to flop, if your breasts are in your armpits instead of pointing ceiling-ward (of course if they are doing this whilst you are on your front, I would recommend seeing your GP pretty fast), if you think your penis is not going to touch the sides (although if this is a comment on the size of your partner’s vagina/anus/mouth/nostril I think you may have a personality rather than self-image problem and will be contributing to your partner’s lack of healthy attitude should you mention it, you asshole), or if you think your body is in any way unattractive and therefore unworthy of the person to whom you are gifting the experience of sex with it.

So many things affect how we see ourselves – gender stereotyping, the beauty myth, the constant conflation of sexuality with gender, homophobia, transphobia, cisgenderism, racism, fashion and economic snobbery, societal assumption that healthy = thin (although that is only a narrow band of thinness and is frequently contradictory making the whole thing more confusing and damaging to your psyche; for the male physique healthy = muscular is not so prevalent but is on the rise in mainstream culture), and image/celebrity obsessed culture all have a negative effect.  Yet when I look around, I see myriad couplings/grouping of a huge variety of shapes and sizes.  Physicality is not ‘one size fits all’, it just seems that way.  Nor is sexuality.

Sexuality – why is it types of sexuality are legislated against or ignored?  There are so many definitions currently.  Here are a few:

Pansexuality, bisexuality, bicuriosity, heterosexuality, homosexuality, lesbianism, asexuality, non-sexuality, polysexuality.

Some of these definitions will change, grow, and come into and out of usage as gender definitions change, grow, and come into and out of usage.  People define themselves in whatever way seems best to fit them at that time of life and depending upon their environment and upbringing may not be as free to express themselves as they would wish.  No sexuality is ‘wrong’, to those who hold a Sex Positive view.  To morally judge the gender of the partner, or the sexuality of certain genders, is not sex positive.  It’s not healthy, either for oneself or for one’s society.

5 – Body Autonomy

We are all the owners of our own bodies, and no-one else’s.  We do not have the right, ever, to dictate what one person will do with their own body, be it tattoo it, pierce it, have a medical procedure or not, have an abortion or not, or have sex or not.  In fact, if we remove that autonomy with regard to sex, that is called RAPE and is illegal.

What we do with our own bodies are decisions influenced by our environments, our families, our perceptions of ourselves and others, the judgements we may or may not receive both before and after acting, our intents and desires, our fears and negativities; myriad influences in fact.  But they are OUR decisions to make.  No-one can, or should, make them for you.

These decisions, of course, are entirely based on point 1.

6 – Acceptance

There are probably as many different types of sexual activity as there are people engaging in the same.  Even if the label is the same for two couples/groups, what actually happens will never be exactly the same (although I don’t think I ever want to actually PROVE that statement…).  What people choose to do within the privacy of their own sex lives may be shocking to others, or boring, or incomprehensible, but that is irrelevant to anyone not directly involved in the sexual activity.

Sex Positive means acknowledging and accepting sexual behaviours vary.  It doesn’t mean ‘tolerating’ as ‘tolerance’ implies judgement and disapproval or approval as deemed appropriate by the judger (who of course is not involved in the actual sexual activity and is probably jealous that you are getting some and they aren’t, so yah boo sucks to them!).  Acceptance – pure and simple.  No judgement, no disapproval or approval.  Acknowledgement and acceptance, and moving on.

Okay, this post turned out a lot longer than anticipated, so this is part 1.  Part 2, which will focus on point 3 and the legalising sex work issue, will come with a conclusion personal to me.  Hopefully it won’t take me too long to produce, but hey, no-one is actually reading this blog anyway, so I guess it doesn’t matter.

Until next time, sweet non-existent reader. *kissy face*!