Glasgow East By-Election: What does it mean for women?

They called it the most important by-election to have taken place in British history. They said this would be the one to define what’s going to happen in UK and Scottish politics over the next couple of years.

So, the SNP have won in Glasgow East – what does that mean? And what does it mean for women?

I’m a socialist, and I would have been voting for Glasgow Feminist Network member Frances Curran (standing for the Scottish Socialist Party) if I lived in Glasgow East rather than Glasgow North. Frances and the Scottish Socialists came in a very respectable fifth with 2.1%, narrowly behind the Lib Dems, and sailing ahead of the woman-haters, the Greens and the randoms.

I had no illusions that the SSP would win the seat, and my apolitical family asked me who would I rather won the seat – Labour or the SNP? (My new step-sister has recently become active in the SNP, adding a bit of awkwardness!)

At the end of the day, Labour are bastards. They have fucked over poor people like me and my family so many times, and it’s unforgiveable. They’re just the Conservatives with different coloured balloons.

But the SNP are just the same again, but their balloons are tartan. I support Scottish independence 100%, but the SNP have been in the Scottish Parliament for nearly 18 months now and have failed to deliver. They are a bunch of careerists bonded by the one ideal they have in common – independence. And most of them are against women’s reproductive rights and want to start picking away at our right to choose by lowering the abortion time limit – including the SNP leader and First Minister, Alex Salmond, and the newly elected MP for Glasgow East, John Mason.

It’s such a tumulteous time politically, and (as usual) poor people and women are going to be the ones to suffer.

Labour hate the poor, the SNP hate the poor slightly less but despise women, and the Tories hate the poor and women but no one notices because Dave and Boris are such jolly nice chaps.

Labour, the SNP and the Conservatives are the three evils we’re being pulled between.

None of the parties are going to stand up for the poor, or for women, as it might get in the way of their careerist opportunism.

This political system is never going to deliver justice for women or for the poor – we’ll always be pawns in their capitalist game. Gordon Brown, Alex Salmond and David Cameron don’t give a shit about you or me.

If we want a feminist revolution, we need it to be just that – a revolution! We need socialism.

[Note: I'm writing a post called A Beginner's Guide to Scottish Politics - should be up in a day or two]

Let the battle of the sexes commence!

(Picture from here)

I saw this ad at the cinema earlier this evening (at a film aimed at kids nonetheless).

I love how the boys’ toys weapons include golf clubs, guitars, satellite dishes, footballs, laptops, remote controlled cars and all kinds of fun stuff (let me know what else you can spot!), the ladies’ arsenal is limited to make up, handbags, miniature dogs and… an exercice machine. Lovely.

To the racist, sexist fuckwits at The Daily Mail and the Mail on Sunday – bugger off, and stop giving our children negative, sexist messages about what men and women can and can’t do.

“The first step to liberation is to free ourselves from these male-imposed shackles!”

(Title quote from Marge Simpson…)

The bra story is the period story’s closest sister – a true coming of age tale. When did you get your first?

But periods are something that can’t be avoided and we have no choice about – whereas we inflict bras on ourselves. We choose to wear them (though that choice is far from a free one).

My first bra… well, unlike most girls, my mother never bought me a bra – never has, never will. So my first few bras were second (or maybe even third) hand – a friend gave them to me. I was 10 or 11. 32A and they were still pretty loose… We clearly didn’t need bras, and yet we wore them. I don’t remember my rationale – I didn’t have one. We just did it, because that’s what you did. We didn’t need them for support, and we didn’t need them to cover up (we would lock ourselves in a toilet cubicle to get changed for PE). We wanted to be grown up, I suppose.

When I actually had developed breasts, I started to buy my own bras – age 12 or 13. Padded, of course. Not because I particularly cared about the size of my bust – it was just, the shape seemed wrong… everywhere I looked, breasts were as round and as even as footballs. And mine weren’t. They were somewhat round, but mostly conical. They were affected by gravity. My nipples were puffy.

So even when my breasts stopped growing, and even though I was completely happy with the size of them, I wore a padded, underwired bra to hide their natural shape and give them that porno boost.

My mother was puzzled and angered by me wearing a bra (she never has understood the concept of social pressure and ‘fitting in’ – I remember in high school a girl was ripped to shreds by bullies… because they noticed she was wearing a crop top/sports ba instead of a proper bra that clipped at the back).

She would and still does interrogate me about why and how often I wear a bra, and lecture me about how it will give me cancer. I accept this. I understand that wearing a bra, and especially an underwired bra, increases my likelihood of getting breast cancer.

The shame that society has instilled in me about the shame of my breasts is greater than my desire not to get breast cancer. Isn’t that awful? And there is a history of breast cancer in my family.

I try to wear a bra as little as possible, but I am too embarrassed by the shape of my own body not to wear one at work, or when I’m out in a public place.

Wearing a bra offers me no advantages. It hurts me sometimes, and makes my breasts ache.

So that’s why I wear a bra. Patriarchy and the shame it instills in women about their own bodies. Shame about breast shape is a lot harder for me to get over than shame over body hair. Maybe because I can cover my legs and my armpits and my vulva (and in Scottish weather – I nearly always do!) and no one knows how hairy I am – but my breasts are always right there, plain as the eye can see.

P.S. Feminist bra burners was a myth manufactured by misogynists, in case you didn’t already hear. Look it up. Anyway – I dream of a braless world!

Women’s Tennis

(Image from here.)

What does Amanda Holden have to say about female tennis players at Wimbledon?

Maybe she’s pissed off that women players only got equal prize money to the men in 2007?

Maybe she’s annoyed that according the mainstream media, there are only four female tennis players (Sharipova, Kournikova, Venus & Serena Williams)?

Maybe she’s irritated that the coverage of the four women tennis players we know the names of has focussed entirely on what they’re wearing?

Or the continual sexual objectification and harassment of female tennis players?

…Nah! Amanda just doesn’t like Sharapova’s shorts!

“I think women should definitely wear feminine gear. They might play like men – but they should dress like ladies.”

Fuck you, Amanda Holden. Fuck you.

Vigil for women killed in Glasgow.

From the Glasgow Feminist Network:

Eleni Pachou. Moira Jones. Michelle Reid. Jeannette Cooper. These are the names of four women killed in Glasgow so far this year. Some have already received more media footage than others – there may well be more names to add to this list, names that never reached the newspapers.

Last Thursday five woman were sexually assaulted in Glasgow in the space of an hour and a half – the Thursday before that, Moira Jones’ body was found. The day after, Eleni Pachou.

The women of Glasgow – the women of the world – should not have to live in fear of men’s violence.

We will be holding a vigil in George Square, at 6pm this Friday the 13th, to commemorate the lives of Eleni, Moira, Michelle, Jeannette, and all the women we’ve lost.

This will be a peaceful vigil with singing, flowers and candles. It will be a time to grieve for the women we’ve lost – but also a time to stand up, be counted, and let everyone know… we won’t stand for this anymore. Violence against women must stop, and until our society changes, more women will die needlessly at the hands of men everyday.

We must let the city know that the women of this city are not and will not be victims. We invite men to attend this vigil and be bold about their refusal to participate in a culture then denigrates, objectifies and, ultimitately, kills women.

Join us. Please forward this message, and invite your loved ones to attend with you.

In memory and in rage,

Glasgow Feminist Network x

Anti-Racist Parent

New link: Anti-Racist Parent

I am not a parent yet, and I don’t know if I ever will be, but I spend a lot of time thinking about parenting. To tell the truth, I have gone loopy for babies over the past couple of months.

My partner and I have nice conversations about what we’d call our potential kids, how we’d answer certain questions, what our boundaries would be, how we’d educate them, etc… I really enjoy talking about it. I don’t know if we ever will have kids, but I like thinking about it.

My vague happy dreams of happily raising a couple of kids in a radical way are almost certainly a million miles away from reality!

If I were to have a baby, it would have my surname and I’d like to give it a name that’s a bit gender ambiguous. I like Charlie, Chris, Bobby, Billy, Alex, Rowan, things like that.

I also like gaelic names like Mhairi (pronounced Varry), Eilidh (Aylee), Seonaid (Shona)… I just found this site offering suggestions for Gaelic names for your baby – including Abernethy and Argyll! Oh dear oh dear.

If I were pregnant or had recently had a baby, I wouldn’t want to tell people whether the baby were male or female, because I’d be so afraid of the gifts they might give it/me. Until recently I thought I wouldn’t want to know, either, but my bf came up with the very valid point that it would be worth knowing to prepare yourself for what’s to come – to prepare yourself for protecting a daughter from patriarchy, or for helping a son to not oppress women.

Maybe I will have kids one day, or maybe I won’t. Whatever I decide is ok, and do-able, and I’m thankful for that.

Big Brother Boobs

Big Brother’s millionth series started last night, apparently. I haven’t watched Big Brother since the series that Brian won (I voted for him seven times… what can I say, I was young and naive…) and I try hard to avoid the blanket news coverage. The editors must be mopping their brows in relief – thank GOD there’s a blind Scottish guy on Big Brother we can talk about instead of violence against women.

I have however, noticed the saturation of the lad’s mags and tabloids with topless former Big Brother contestants. Nuts or Zoo (I can’t tell the difference) have four or five ex-Big Brother women on the front cover alone – how many more are inside?

Big Brother’s central premise is that we get to see ambitious people who thought above their station humiliated and ridiculed. You thought you could be famous? You thought people would like you? You thought you could be successful? Well, do a stupid dance and drunkenly kiss someone, or I’ll withhold your food and privileges.

The way in which the female Big Brother contestants are mercilessly pursued by pornographers is patriarchal extension of this. By reducing them to their breasts, we tell them that they are worth nothing and that their only value is as wank fodder – they’re nothing but a rubbish bin for men’s ejaculate.

You thought you were better than me, bitch?

Silent and submissive, naked and vulnerable – you’re nothing. Absolutely nothing.

We can’t even tell the difference between you anymore.

Eleni Pachou and Moira Jones

Long time no blog. I’ve been busy. Charliegrrl’s got Stockholm Syndrome, and doesn’t seem to realise some of us never left the streets.

Glasgow’s a funny place right now, as you can probably guess. Two women killed in two days. The police visited me at work, as my workplace is quite near one of the murder scenes, asking if we had any CCTV they could look at. It shook me up a little.

This evening we had a Glasgow Feminist Network meeting, where we had a minute’s silence for Eleni Pachou and Moira Jones. We’re planning a vigil – for Eleni and Moira, and for all the women killed in Glasgow.

After the meeting we went for a drink on Byres Road and had to fight our way through swarms of police. Through the pub window we could see a huge trailer billboard with Eleni’s face, and the flash of car lights against fluorescent police jackets.

I walked home through torrential rain, thunder and lightning, seeing posters with women’s faces and the word ‘murder’ in big red writing, and it all seemed very fitting.

We have long way to go, and a lot of pain and suffering until we get there.

rapists in training

Children enjoy sexual assault scenes on TVs: survey

A recent survey has revealed shocking findings: many children enjoy watching scenes of rapes on TV and they come to see sexual assaults as something common.

“Some children even say they want to be like leading male characters in TV series so that they can rape a woman,” Dr Noppadon Kannika said Tuesday as the head of the Assumption University’s research centre, “This is worrying”.

Conducted from April 24 to April 27, the survey covered 2,159 respondents in Bangkok and major cities. The respondent age starts from two years old up.

According to the survey, raping scenes are the favourite among 21.1 per cent of children aged between 13 and 19 years old, 10.3 per cent of children aged between two and six years old and 6.4 per cent of those aged from seven to 12 years old.

The Nation

Of course I am deeply saddened by the results of this survey. But I dispute that these are “shocking findings”. I’m not shocked and I’m not surprised. If we continue to make violence against women not only mainstream but glamourous and desirable, then we will continue to train up our boys as rapists.

(Found via Shakesville.)

Women I Love: Kate Bush

Now, I don’t remember how old I was when I first heard of Kate Bush. I remember it was Wuthering Heights, and the video was on TV and I was utterly horrified. Since when was that music?! Who did that woman think she was?!

Fast forward a number of years. I was desperately trying to be a hot indie girl, despite not being in a great mental or emotional state, not being hot in the least, and having no friends (or money to spend on the music and gear). I saw The Futureheads on telly and remembered NME had decreed them cool – so I tuned in and turned up. They were doing a cover of Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love, and I was impressed.  I downloaded the original version, and a few days later bought an old Kate Bush album on tape from a charity shop.

And the rest is history: it was love.

I will now outline just a few of the reasons I love Kate Bush.

She’s a musical genius. There has never been anyone as innovative her, and I don’t there ever will be! Many of the songs on her first album had been written when she was 13.

She’s fought her way through the patriarchy and managed to succeed with her artistic integrity intact! She’s the first woman to have a Number 1 single in the UK with a song she’s actually written herself. I don’t know if she calls herself a feminist, but if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say yes.

From an NME interview in 1982…

People weren’t even generally aware that I wrote my own songs or played the piano. The media just promoted me as a female body. It’s like I’ve had to prove that I’m an artist in a female body.

She sings socially and politically conscious songs that are actually worth listening to! See Army Dreamers.

She didn’t squander the advance she received on her first album age 16, oh no. She invested in interpretive dance classes from David Bowie’s dance teacher! Wiki says…

She was the first singer to use a wireless headset radio microphone on stage, which allowed her to incorporate extensive dance routines into her live shows.

And I love all of her ballads and folk songs, the songs where she channels her Irish roots… yes, I’m a sentimental nationalist, but it rubs my Celtic pride up nicely.

So, if you’ve read this far, you now need to further your Kate Bush education.

Watch these videos carefully, and pay attention to the lyrics! It’s very important, unless you want to a live a life completely devoid of joy.

Army Dreamers

Babooshka

This Woman’s Work

Cloudbusting

I have left Wuthering Heights until last because I think you need a bit more of a ‘mature pallet’, if that makes sense, to enjoy. If the other songs have laid a bit of the groundwork for your Kate Bush love, then consider Wuthering Heights a bit of advanced listening material… kind of similar to Twisty’s take on the role of Feministing (which I completely agree with, by the way). The role of all other music has only been preparing you for Kate Bush, and Wuthering Heights.

Now you will notice that youtube have a sidebar of similar videos, listing many more Kate Bush songs – explore, and tell me what you enjoy!

I also advise reading Kate Bush’s entry on wikipedia.

Please note: my appraisal of Kate Bush has not once included any of the following phrases “She’s hot”, “I’d give her one” or any of these…

she’s got a nice bum
i’ve got a semi
she never got spanked in her childhood
she had a nice arse back in them days
she still had a nice arse looking at this! and that’s the MAIN reason why i watch this video rofl *blushes*
my dream girl

…all of which came from only the first page of the comments only on the videos I’ve linked to.

Boys: it’s really not that difficult to praise OR criticise a female musician without reducing her to a sexual object.