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My Experience at the Body/Language Programme

by Kelvin Ng Jiawin, Change Maker and participant at Body/Language creative writing workshop

photo (1)I joined Body/Language, a creative writing workshop developed by EtiquetteSG and We Can! Singapore, for a simple reason: it combined writing and feminism, two of my favourite things. Needless to say, my expectations for the workshop were high. What I did not expect, however, was how much I gained from the workshop in return — besides affording me a creative platform to express my personal experiences with gender issues, the workshop prompted me to reevaluate my own conception of gender-based violence.

A wide range of topics were covered throughout the four sessions, as my fellow participants and I discussed issues of beauty standards, religion, gender stereotypes as well as institutional sexism. Manessa Lian, a public workshop participant, says, “It was an empowering experience, to be able to use poetry to talk about things that otherwise are rarely voiced out.”

Despite being the only (cisgender) male in the workshop, I never once felt left out, not only because I was able to share my own experiences with deviating from gendered ideals, something I’ve never been able to do comfortably in a mainstream setting, but also because I truly learned a great deal about how issues usually thought of as trivial, such as daily microaggressions, can realistically perpetuate more harm than we’d like to think.

1523098_871894242845508_7416063464966567862_oThe facilitators of my workshop, Nurul and Anne, were nothing short of stellar. They were simultaneously professional and personal throughout the four sessions, and succeeded in fostering an atmosphere comfortable enough for everyone to share their honest opinions. I particularly liked the ground rules democratically established on the first day, initiated by Anne; it provided a useful framework for our later discourse and ensured that no boundaries were transgressed.

I wasn’t the only one who felt this way; Sahar Pirzada, a fellow GEC workshop participant, says, ”The environment created by the facilitators of the course was one of warmth, support and trust. I felt safe to put my unique voice out there without fear of judgement from the facilitators or my peers. The positive support I received from the participants in my cohort of Body/Language encouraged me to perform at SWF.”

Knowing that it would be the first time performing a spoken word piece for most of us, Nurul also helpfully shared a few spoken word videos so we’d have a better idea of the techniques and forms that could undergird our works. At the same time, however, it was emphasised that we didn’t have to confine ourselves to any format or structure, and encouraged us to express ourselves in the most comfortable way, however informal or unstructured. Anung D’Lizta, a HOME workshop participant, opined that, “A lot of our feelings can’t be talked about, but it can be shared through our writing.”

10856490_871893199512279_6637369888932692318_oAs we began producing our works in one of the later sessions, the facilitators would go beyond providing helpful technical advice — they’d also initiate a conversation with us to understand where we were coming from, and why we wrote what we did. It was all done in a respectful, understanding manner, and other than providing a catharsis of sorts, both facilitators also shared really germane advice on our personal issues. Throughout the workshop, there was a significant amount of time devoted to conversing with each participant personally, yet in the end, no one was left out and everyone was catered to.

My facilitator, Nurul, shares, “It’s a beautifully designed workshop program that enables participants to tap into their inner writing warriors, most of which is driven by personal experiences that they have never or yet to articulate. It was evident that for most of the participants, it became a cathartic outlet to express themselves, not just through words, but through poetry, which allowed for a more creative and powerful resolution. The workshops also presented many participants the opportunity to discuss issues on a wider scale, having come with different perspectives on different issues.”

I had mixed feelings about sharing and performing my piece in front of the class during the last session — I was undeniably excited to let an audience hear it, yet there was an inevitable sense of anxiety and self-doubt. I couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to share it with, for everyone was immensely supportive and encouraging. Constructive feedback was provided in a very respectful manner for every participant’s work, and I really enjoyed listening to all the pieces written by my fellow creative minds! I left the workshop not merely with a poem I’m proud of, but with so much more — a better understanding of the different dimensions to gender violence, a stronger mastery of poetry-writing techniques and above all, a group of really kickass feminist friends.

pic1About the Author: Kelvin Ng is a debater by training and part-time poet. His biggest accomplishment is remembering all the lyrics to Beyonce’s ***Flawless — both the original one and the Nicki Minaj remix — so that must mean something.

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“WARNING: OPINIONATED FEMINIST”

This piece was written for the Body/Language creative writing workshop, co-organised by We Can! Singapore and Etiquette SG. IMG_2737

There used to be a postcard on the inside of the door of my university dorm room. In black and white block letters against an eye-catching red background, it read: ‘WARNING: OPINIONATED FEMINIST’, and was pasted above the peephole of my door. A few months ago, a schoolmate who was in my room asked, “Shouldn’t this sign be outside? What’s the point if you put a warning sign and no one except you can see it?”

I didn’t know how to explain it to him. But I said, “I’m afraid I’d scare away the boys!”

He plopped down on my bed and laughed. “I thought I’m the one who’s into boys, not you.” He looked at me knowingly. “Are you even interested in boys?”

Maybe he thought I was only interested in girls but I don’t think he knew how much I used to hate them, especially the long-haired variety. Girls were a foreign species, too emotional, docile, and weak. So I observed the ways boys acted and tried my best to emulate them. ‘Top baby boy names in 2012’, I googled, then decided on a male name for myself – Sherman, which translates to ‘wool-shearer’. I became one of the boys when I cut my hair short in Junior College. Not pixie short, but boy short. It took me quite a while to master the art of styling short hair, but when I did, I thought I looked f**king fabulous. I shunned dresses and skirts, wore shirts and pants instead. I had never really wanted to burn bras, but I once contemplated setting my school skirt on fire in the middle of the school garden upon graduation.

Halfway through my last year of school, I struck off number 24 on my bucket list: wearing boy pants to school instead of the school skirt. That day, my friends said something I knew was a long time coming. They told me I was a lesbian long before I identified as anything other than straight. Others didn’t say it but I could see it in their eyes when they walked past me in school corridors.

78 judgmental looks and 21 unwarranted remarks later, I settled down at a small table outside the school library to summarise ‘Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit’ for a literature class. Chapter 6, the church finds out about Jeanette’s and Melanie’s relationship of “unnatural passions”. They are pulled up and accused of falling under satan’s spell.

I looked up from my book. Jacob, an ex-classmate, was walking towards me with a hotdog in his hand. He took a seat at a table directly opposite mine. We were less than 2 metres apart, a little too close for comfort. I tried to ignore him and focus on my book but from the corner of my eyes, I could see that he was looking at me. A bite in his hotdog, he stared straight at me. A few minutes, then another bite, his eyes still fixated on me. I put down my book. It was late in the evening and there didn’t seem to be any other students around. I started throwing my study materials into my bag, all the while keeping my head down. A couple of his classmates joined him at the table with their own snacks and I quickly left the area with my things messily stuffed into a bag that was not properly zipped, feeling his gaze trailing my back, burning a hole through those dreaded pants of mine.

My phone beeped. A text message from a friend who was at his table. “Jacob is asking us what the f**k is wrong with you, says you’re a lesbian who will grow up f**king girls.”

I ran straight to the handicap toilet and locked myself in. For half an hour, I sat on the toilet bowl seat then paced around in the tiny cubicle, too afraid to go out. At some point, I un-zipped my bag, took out a pair of FBT shorts and changed into it. But I felt like a coward for giving in so I changed back into pants. I unlocked the door and was about to open it when I heard voices from outside. School kids laughing and shouting to one another. I locked the door again. I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t walk out of the toilet like that. So I changed into the FBT shorts, waited until the coast was clear before I made a beeline out of school. The stares wore me down, and Jacob was my tipping point.

I fantasised about going up to Jacob on the last day of school in a complete male school uniform (a button-down shirt, pants and a tie) and telling him to his face to take his queerphobia somewhere else because who I am and who I end up sharing my bed with really is none of his f**king business. I mapped out the precise location he would be sitting at in the canteen and the company he would be surrounded by. I even scripted my lines. But of course, that never happened. Instead, I did the most instinctive thing a young, would-be queer could possibly do. I wrote an angry blog post about gender and sexuality on my WordPress website.

For the rest of the year, the ‘click’ of the handicap toilet door as it locked would become a familiar sound. I had few friends, sometimes I had no friends. And gradually, the handicap toilet became my best friend.

I bumped into Jacob recently at my school lobby when he came to visit his girlfriend who studies here. Our eyes met for a second then I quickly averted my gaze, ran back to my room and locked my door, taking deep breaths to calm myself. I looked at the postcard on the inside of my door. “WARNING: OPINIONATED FEMINIST”, it read.

I didn’t want to proclaim to the world that I’m a feminist because I have never felt particularly welcome nor safe in my own university. Once, somebody anonymously posted a letter publicly addressed to me on my university’s Facebook group:

“Dear Sherlyn
Everything seemingly misogynistic, rape-positive, sex-negative, anti-feminist, slut-shaming, anti-woman is NOT ALL THE S**T YOU THINK IT TO BE. PLEASE STOP YOUR PSEUDO-FEMINIST AGENDA. Get a sense of humour. If you don’t, the only ‘change’ you’ll create is your number of friends… closer and closer to zero.”

That was not an isolated incident.

In the wake of all these, I create a performance art piece cum public statement. In the school library, I print out all the anonymous attacks I’ve received on A4 sheets of paper. Each sheet of paper features one anonymous comment. No two sheets contain the same comment. I print out 16 of those. Then I print out another sheet of paper with all the comments and cut them up into smaller strips. I head to the nearest utility shop and purchase blu-tack, scotch tape and small table mirrors. During lunch break, I walk to the middle of the dining hall and arrange the printed sheets in a circle, sticking them to the floor with blu-tack. Behind each sheet of paper, I set up a mirror facing outwards. I stick the small strips of comments onto my back with scotch tape. Finally, I step into the middle of my circle and sit down. Some students ignore me entirely, others come up close to read the words. I invite them to take a stand by sitting with me.

In my head, no one joins me.

In reality, none of that ever happened and it probably never will. Instead, I did the most instinctive thing a young, angry queer feminist could possibly do. I left my university’s Facebook group and wrote a post on an anti-violence against women blog.

There used to be a postcard on the inside of the door of my university dorm room. It’s a sign that reads: “WARNING: OPINIONATED FEMINIST”. At some point this semester, I moved the sign to the outside of my door. When I look through the peephole, I sometimes catch students sneaking a stare at my door decorations when they walk past my room. Could any of them be the ones behind the personal attacks? In a school where ‘feminist’ is a dirtier word than ‘f**k’, where being queer makes you a walking target, what do you choose: hiding behind locked doors, or social suicide? I am tired of playing this game, and if there’s one useful thing that 14 years of schooling has taught me, it’s that you can’t win either way.

About The Author: Sherlyn turned 20 this Halloween. She likes insects and arachnids, and once had a pet snail named Fluffy that was unintentionally murdered by a schoolmate. She’s a second year student at Yale-NUS with plans to specialise in creative writing and work as an editor/writer at some place that won’t cen-sor her subversive “pseudo-feminist agenda”. She’s been quoted to “only ever wear social justice tees or gothic clothing”.

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Breakthrough: We Can! Arts Fest 2014

 

breakthroughlandscape2-small (1)
On 6 December, join We Can! for live music performances, film, dance, theatre, panel discussions, a station where you can design T-shirts, a photobooth with cool props and more… and it’s all FREE!

Organised by youth, for youth, Breakthrough is an innovative arts fest celebrating diversity and the freedom to be you..

Programme highlights include:

– Electrifying performances by ‘Shh…Diam!’, a queer feminist band bringing their happy hardcore music from Kuala Lumpur.

– ‘Boys Will Be Boys’, an interactive theatre performance exploring how social pressures to be “masculine” contribute to violence against women.

– Body/Language, a spoken word performance examining body image with pieces that had rave reviews at the Singapore Writers Festival.

– ‘“Rescuing” Princesses & Pontianaks’, a workshop on re-writing popular tales in a gender balanced way.

– Contemporary dance performances by student groups innovative exploring body image, gender stereotypes and gender-based violence

Check out the full festival programme here!

Speak up, take a stand and break the box with us. This event is created by youth, for youth!

Date: 6 December 2014 (Saturday)
Venue: SMU Admin Building, Level 6 (University Lounge)
Time: 11am – 8pm

We need your help in making the Arts Fest run smoothly! We are looking for stage managers, AV help, emcees, runners and general volunteers to ensure the festival goes as planned. If you can volunteer for the Arts Fest, drop Nabilah an email at changemakers@wecansingapore.com.See you there!

About We Can! Youth

We Can! Youth is the We Can! campaign’s special focus in 2014. This year, we hope to get more youth involved in taking a stand against gender-based violence in their everyday lives. We are reaching out to young Change Makers, learning from their personal experiences and starting conversations on gender stereotypes, sexual consent, rights and healthy dating relationships. Youth Change Makers are young people committed to making positive social change in their communities. Through their actions, they can help make schools, cyberspace and social events safe spaces for young people regardless of their gender or sexual expression.

About We Can! Arts Fest 2013
Missed last year’s We Can! Arts Fest? Last year, we brought together artists, activists and Change Makers to meet others who are using their voices to speak up against the less visible forms of violence. We had art installations, music performances, spoken word, film screenings, theatre and more! Read more about We Can! Arts Fest 2013: The Silence of Violence here and take a look through our photo gallery here!

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What Feminism Means to Me

by Change Maker, Alex Tan

boy-femNot long ago, I had a discussion with my friends about feminism. Their reactions to my internship at AWARE were predictably lukewarm. They informed me that while they were “all for gender equality”, they felt that the feminist movement today runs contrary to the ideal of equality. In their opinion, it actually aims to shift the power imbalance in favour of women by “bashing men up”. It is easy to dismiss these views, but exhausting to fully explain how problematic and ridiculous they are. In this post, I will address three common misconceptions and their flawed assumptions.

Myth: Feminists are reverse sexists.

Granted, men can be victims of prejudice, just as women can. But sexism is systemic oppression. Reverse sexism does not exist because the unequal status of women is institutional and deeply entrenched. For example, in Singapore at present, there are only 18 elected female Members of Parliament out of a total of 84 elected members. Only 7.3% of board positions are held by women. There is a lack of female representation in political, socio-economic and military institutions. This means that even if a woman feels prejudice towards a man, she is powerless to institutionalise this feeling the way men can. Sexism and misogyny therefore do not happen in a vacuum. They take place alongside pervasive culturally-reinforced messages of inherent female inferiority. As such, prejudices against men cannot be considered sexism, given that men already enjoy privileges on a structural level by virtue of having been born male.

Myth: Feminism aims to establish a matriarchy.

28toge-600This is based on the misunderstanding that feminism ignores men’s issues simply because the focus is on women’s rights. Feminism creates a space of female solidarity and gives voice to women in a world already dominated by male narratives. It would be indecent and oppressive for men to demand attention when they already benefit due to existing power structures. Furthermore, feminism is not completely disconnected from men’s issues because it seeks to eliminate gendered expectations and roles which also affect men. In Singapore, National Service is compulsory and male-exclusive for citizens and permanent residents. Evidently, not everyone has military aspirations or capabilities suited to National Service. Forcing it onto men who will not find it fulfilling is unfair, but so is excluding women who will find it meaningful.

However, making National Service compulsory for women as well will not bring any resolution. Instead, a possible solution would be to make it optional for both men and women. Not only does that achieve equality of choice for both sexes, it also discourages the narrow-minded notion that serving in the military is the singular standard by which contribution to the country should be judged. Similarly, rather than expose women to the punitive measure of caning, we should ban the practice entirely. I support AWARE’s stance: “Neither men nor women deserve to suffer from caning. Our stand is not that this practice be extended to include women, but rather that caning be abolished completely”. Violating more human rights as a means to achieve gender equality seems to me both ironic and hypocritical.

Myth: Feminists are un-feminine, unmarried women. 

Other than this being an obviously inaccurate generalization, it is further problematic because it suggests that a woman must be feminine and/or married and implies that femininity and feminist ideals are mutually exclusive. It also perpetuates the damaging idea that a woman’s identity is only valid if she is married to a man. Needless to say, this erases personal agency and objectifies women.

Sometimes I think about the multiple questions associated with being a male feminist, as brilliantly articulated by Arthur Chu here. I dream of a world in which everyone is not socially defined by their gender, but is instead treated with the dignity that human beings deserve.

At the heart of feminism is the freedom of individual expression regardless of whether that image fits society’s restrictive standards.  Feminism disregards and rises above those standards. What comes to mind is a quote by journalist Helen Lewis: “The comments on any article about feminism justify the existence of feminism.” Until the day that feminists will no longer receive backlash for fighting for gender equality and social change, feminism remains urgently necessary.

alexblogpicAbout the Author: Alex likes many things, like Virginia Woolf, Welcome to Night Vale, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Arcade Fire, blogs that criticize what’s problematic in pop culture, articles about the tensions of postcoloniality, any form of media that subverts narrative tropes and long words (e.g. omphaloskepsis) that he probably will only ever use once in a pretentious poem that he has yet to write. Oh, and he is also a feminist. 

 

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Sexism Is Never Okay

by Jeriel Teo

accompanying image 2One of my earliest memories of secondary school life was being sexist. If you heard the word “fag**t” being thrown around my classroom, chances were they emerged from my mouth. One of the incidents I remember was offending an entire table of girls with an offhand sexist remark and walking away pleased with myself. I remember thinking, “Girls, right?

After two years and many apologies, I find myself sitting at a communal table at the AWARE centre. I remember nervous thoughts about girls, exams and the urgency to “become a man”. Such were the pressures of a thirteen-year-old in a boys’ school, eager to prove himself. Being 13 was to be aching to grow into a man of substance yet lacking the maturity to grow beyond the stereotypes of a man. I wasn’t particularly close to my father as he was a very aloof parent. My mother was preoccupied with responsibilities such as managing the household expenses and making sure I wasn’t slacking off at school. Thus, my idea of masculinity was almost entirely shaped by movies and I thought being a man meant:

  1.  Being muscular
  2.  Being heterosexual
  3.  Swearing
  4.  Making offhand sexist remarks

Accompanying imageThe media often portrays men as inherently sexist. It seems to send the message that men are misogynistic and can’t control their sexual impulses. Such a message is problematic as it justifies misogyny. If one were to make a sexist joke in a boys’ school, one would probably get away with a joke or two. After all, we’re guys, right? We’ve been conditioned into thinking that sexist jokes are a quintessential part of the male experience, that to be sexist is normal and excusable. Some of us know about male privilege and understand that we are complicit in patriarchal oppression. Yet no one is speaking up about male privilege or sexism in boys’ schools. By remaining silent on the issue and propping up the status quo, patriarchal oppression is justified and we shirk the responsibility for working towards change.

Patriarchy affects not just women, but men as well. It drives us to police our own behaviour. Words like “faggot” and “girl” are used as insults to enforce strict gender norms. The current superficial concept of masculinity has disappointed many. We need to reconsider the existing concept of masculinity and acknowledge our male privilege.

Jeriel imageAbout the Author: Jeriel is a Year 4 student at Raffles Institution, skilled air guitarist and full-time disappointment to his parents. He is passionate about drama and literature, and enjoys writing both fiction and nonfiction, neither of which is particularly good, though on days when his cynicism muscle is on leave, he hopes he can improve it. He believes strongly in gender equality, and that men have as much a stake in it as women. His pet peeves include writing about himself in the third person and irony. 

 

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On My Unrequited Love for India

By Kokila Annamalai, We Can! Singapore Campaign Coordinator

I just finished the book ’Shame’, which is about forced marriage, honour killings and domestic violence in the South Asian diaspora of Britain. The author is a Sikh woman from Derby who survived very brutal oppression and violence by her family and community, and has spent her life supporting and advocating for other South Asian women and girls in Britain, mostly of Pakistani origin, who’re affected by the same conditions she was in.

What struck me about the book, apart from the horrifying experiences of some women, is the author’s evident pride in her South Asian identity, though she consistently refers to the South Asian community – its culture, norms, traditions and practices – as a site of inequality, discrimination and very violent crimes against women.

Like the author, I too identify deeply with South Asia and South Asian culture, especially India. Though I was born in Singapore and have spent most of my life here, my family is from India and has always taught me that India is home. Since I can remember, we went back to India every year for annual holidays. I’ve spent three of my adult years in Tamil Nadu and had quite a few other stints in different parts of India.

I have always loved India dearly, but because of my own experiences and the overpowering narratives of violence and oppression that is the reality of many South Asian women, it is a very difficult relationship – full of contradictions, shame, confusion and even guilt. But the feeling that has been strongest since reading ‘Shame’ is a very personal kind of pain and anger. It’s the same kind of pain and anger I feel every time I read or hear someone say that India is one of the worst countries in the world for women to live, and say it as though it is the most important thing about Indian society, notwithstanding everything else that is beautiful or remarkable about the place or the people.

I get angry not because they’re wrong, overgeneralising or reductionist in their accusations, but because they’re right. I recently came across an organisation called No Country For Women, which fights against gender-based violence in India, and I was taken aback by the truth in that name. It forced me to confront the fact that the love I have for India, at least for now, is unrequited.

Because the place I love is also a place in which I feel very unsafe; because many of the films in my language are deeply misogynistic and promote rape; because when I was sixteen, I was sent away to India where my relatives pretty much kept me under house arrest for six months because I was suspected to be dating a boy in Singapore; because many of the people I worked with in rural India and adore only respect me because I cover up around them and don’t share many parts of who I am or what I believe in with them.

My own community, both here and in India, accepts dowry, tolerates domestic abuse, forces women into marriage, and some people in my family still rebuke women who dare to call their husbands by their name.

Some of the oppressive practices in South Asia have a stronger hold on diasporic communities like mine, which cling on to them as a source of comfort, security and identity in foreign lands; but for me, growing up with other influences, opportunities and identities in Singapore has allowed me to reject those practices and those who impose them on me.

A part of me has always wanted to live in India and contribute to the feminist movement there. And having met my partner there, I’ve had to consider more seriously the possibility of moving there in the next few years to live with him, but I’m finding that it’s such a difficult decision to make. Because of our families (which are conservative), communities (which are punitive), socioeconomic status (not being able to afford the luxuries of private transport makes things even more restrictive and unsafe for women), jobs and other factors, I’m fearful that we cannot live the lives we choose, and that I will be forced to give up some of the things I believe in.

But here is the reality check – these compromises and restrictions are meagre compared to the situation of many women who can’t choose to stay away, who don’t have allies, who can’t support themselves financially, whose rapes and murders don’t make it to the news – hell, they don’t even make it out of their homes – who don’t have the power to reject the oppressive conditions they are in or be heard.

This is the reality check that makes me want to go and not want to go, at the same time.

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About the author: Kokila Annamalai (pictured, left) is the campaign coordinator for We Can! End All Violence Against Women (Singapore chapter), a global movement against gender violence.

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Step In The Right Direction

By Akshita Vaidyanathan, Change Maker

“Yes, I kick like a girl, and I swim like a girl and I wake up in the morning because I am a girl and that is not something I should be ashamed of” – Always #LikeAGirl advertisement

Why is it that the phrase “Like a girl” is an insult?

The new viral advertisement by Always speaks to this negative stereotype in quite a heartfelt and touching manner. Always brought together a group of people, both male and female, and told them to do things like ‘run like a girl’, ‘fight like a girl’, or ‘throw like a girl.’ All the older participants’ portrayals, male and female alike, were comic caricatures of what they thought that phrase meant. They didn’t run nor fight like a normal girl would. Their portrayals showed something that is deeply ingrained into society – a notion that if you do anything like a girl, you are weak, and the phrase “like a girl”, as one of the participants states, is said as if “someone is trying to humiliate you.”

Gender stereotypes and insults are strongest when they are most subtle. And because “like a girl” has such a strong negative connotation, we’re inherently saying that one gender is better than the other and perpetuating gender inequality at an extremely young age.

disturbing-life-lessons-learned-from-disney-movies2135738640-jan-31-2014-1-600x400Disney movies are another good example of gender stereotypes that young children, notably young girls, are exposed to. Cinderella teaches girls that they aren’t worthy of a prince unless they look beautiful, but also have all the domestic skills a women must have. This stereotype is reinforced in Snow White, as Snow stays at home to cook and clean while the dwarves go off to do “the real work.” I wouldn’t be the first person to note how Beauty and the Beast normalizes the existence of domestic abuse and violence within relationships.

And it’s not just Disney Movies. These stereotypes are widespread throughout the media, as voiced in the 2011 documentary “Miss Representation.” This documentary, directed by Jennifer Siebel Newsom, illustrates the inaccurate representations of women in mainstream media. It discusses how media often fails to represent women in power in a favorable light, but very often represents women in a trivial, disparaging fashion. As we all know, we live in a world where media presence is so ubiquitous that this disparate portrayal of women has an extremely negative effect.

tumblr_mbcareFTtI1rfir01o1_500When a force, especially one that has as much social power as the media does, labels women with these stereotypes, they are perceived as real and can translate into real life environments. Women encounter the consequences of these stereotypes at the workplace, as they confront the glass ceiling while men glide up the glass escalator. They encounter these consequences in their own home, if they aren’t as domestic as they are “supposed to be”, or are unmarried, or don’t have children. In arguably one of the most violent ways, women encounter the consequences when they are blamed for their rape or assault because of the way they dress, or the way they act – because it wouldn’t have happened to them if they had done something differently, if they had somehow turned into the fictional women everyone sees on the media.

On the flipside, mass media has recently taken a step in the right direction. Television shows like  “Orange is the New Black,” “Orphan Black”, “American Horror Story: Coven”, “Girls,” and “Veep” reject such stereotypes of women, and have strong female leads. They aren’t beauty and romance-centric, something that is a definite change in the representation of women in the media. Although a few movies in Hollywood have strong female leads, we have yet to see this become widespread throughout the movie industry.

Website “Mic.com,” recently posted an article titled “23 Women Show Us Their Favorite Position,” using a pun on the innuendo in a much more empowering way. It shows women holding up their favorite positions on placards: reading “CEO,” “President,” “Engineer.”

Position

Of course, the Always advertisement does something very similar. In the second half of ad, we’re shown something that you don’t often see in advertising – something truthful. The younger female participants in the group are told the same things that the older participants were, but these girls don’t run comically. They run as fast as they can, they fight with grace and with strength and they throw their hardest. These young girls, run like themselves, fight like themselves, and show the strength than any girl has. As they should.

I urge you all to watch Always’ #LikeAGirl and help to rewrite what it means to be a girl.

imageAbout the Author: Akshita is currently an undergraduate student at Tufts University in Boston studying Psychology and English. She was born in India, but grew up in Singapore for most of her life and attended UWCSEA Dover. She has a keen interest for gender equality and women’s and hopes to play her part in bridging the gap in gender equality, both here in Singapore and worldwide. In her free time she loves reading, spending time with her friends, binge watching television, writing (both creatively and not), and her favourite pastime – reading curious articles and about interesting studies on the internet.  

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Step off your pedestals, men

by Vincent Pak, Change Maker

The problem with gender today is that we don’t realise there is one. We don’t notice the things we say or do: did you tell someone to “stop being a girl” or decide on a Barbie doll set for your adolescent niece just because she’s a girl? It’s true that gender equality in Singapore is more practiced than other countries around the world, but should we settle for the status quo? Sexism isn’t discernible all the time; it’s often the ignorance of our actions that perpetuate violence against women. When we are not aware of the underlying sexism that accompanies our language and actions, we unwittingly encourage it.

Feminism begins with awareness, and here’s how men can demonstrate that they care about gender equality and become better allies.

Recognise your privileges as men

UntitledAs men, we are given privileges that many women around the world are denied. We are generally physically stronger; we are linguistically favoured (e.g. ‘mankind’, ‘freshmen’); we are socially and culturally preferred (male babies are more popular in many cultures, even in Singapore); our salaries are fatter (in Singapore, women earn 77 cents for every dollar men earn); our sexual freedom is celebrated (‘stud’ vs ‘slut’); we are overrepresented in almost every institution, including politics, media, religion and business. The inexhaustible list goes on.

These privileges are often overlooked, but recognising them is the first step to realising the imbalance of power as a result of gender. Know that these privileges are awarded to us simply because we are men, and they are denied to women, simply because they are women; only then can we start to understand sexism. Denying them is akin to denying the woman’s experience, something we should seek to learn about.

Watch your language

1I’ve heard men tell me they aren’t sexist when I talk about gender issues. The same men who call other men “pussies” and tell them to “man up”. I suppose they don’t realise it, but it is no excuse that we utter and echo misogynistic language because we don’t know better. We communicate more than just words when we speak; we convey emotions and intentions that can marginalise and objectify women. Before you make an association between weakness and femininity, before you slut-shame a girl because she has numerous male friends or sexual partners, before you call someone a ‘lady doctor’ or a ‘woman lawyer’, think twice. Opt for gender-neutral language like ‘chairperson’ and ‘firefighter’, and respect women’s lived experiences, choices and liberties.

Chivalry is, in its most literal sense, medieval

It’s 2014. We are Singaporeans, not Knights of the Chauvinistic Gentlemen Order. There is no need to take it upon yourself to protect the damsel from, ironically, the harms of other men. You don’t have to bring home the bacon whilst keeping your wife at home in an attempt to take care of her. Don’t take ownership of a woman because you feel that’s your responsibility as a man. Women deserve, and have repeatedly proven, their economic and political independence. Look at Ho Ching! The next time you hold the door open for someone, do it out of goodness from your heart, not because she’s “easy on the eyes”.

Cease the censorship

10155289_10203719654859712_7225947257474577733_n We teach and expect girls to cross their legs, to hide their bra straps, to conceal their sanitary pads in a “feminine hygiene carrier”. We cringe at women who discuss their sexual habits, and police them by telling them to shave parts of their bodies to look appealing. As men, we need to ask ourselves: why do we teach girls shame for the same things that we celebrate in boys? If you believe in equality, stop imposing double standards. Realise that they can and should live without censorship, like many men do.

 

Feminism isn’t about men

3If you recall the recent #NotAllMen saga where men who felt attacked by women calling out misogyny and violence against women in society hijacked the issue and made it about them, that’s a clear example of what not to do. It really isn’t about how feminist outcries hurt men who don’t rape or mistreat women, because defending yourself in a conversation about sexism silences women. We are all part of the problem that is gender – join the discussion instead of exempting yourself while you continue to enjoy your male privilege.

These are five ways to demonstrate you believe in gender equality as men, but don’t just stop there. It is a gradual effort to eradicate sexism, and we can start by altering our daily habits as we interact with each other. There is much to unlearn, but that makes learning a whole lot easier.

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About the author: Someone once told Vincent that liking pink as a favourite colour was perfectly fine. That was enough reason for him to subscribe to feminism, because it allowed him to drink strawberry milk with confidence. Still serving his National Service, Vincent enjoys the occasional fantasy that sexism is dead in the military, but stalwartly trusts that he won’t be in denial someday. He is passionate about naps, and prefers baby blue over pink now.
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A Parent Making Change

The We Can! team spoke to Norliza Hamidon, a passionate Change Maker and parent to 13 year-old Irfan, on her approach to parenting and engaging her son on gender issues.
By Ashley Tan.

As children grow up in a heavily gendered world, it seems almost unavoidable that their perception of body and self be constantly skewed with unrealistic and unhealthy ideals normalized in popular media. From early on, children are exposed to gender roles, norms and the unequal power men and women have in society. From the toys and clothes that many children are given, to the playmates and extracurricular activities their parents choose for them, children are put in a certain mould based on their assigned gender at birth.

10403930_775856025778020_4532904083281234053_oParenting has one of the most powerful roles to play in the ideas children develop about themselves and the world around them. Conscious, gender-neutral parenting can help children reject damaging notions about gender and instead explore their own individuality. Actively teaching gender equality to children from a young age, demonstrating equal relationships and educating them on gender diversity and consent can go a long way in shaping children’s perspectives.

Creating a safe space at home where they can ask questions about their body or discuss the messages they come across in the media or outside of the home can also help children form healthy attitudes about gender and become agents of change.

The We Can! team spoke to Norliza Hamidon, a passionate Change Maker and parent to 13 year-old Irfan, on her approach to parenting and engaging her son on gender issues.

“I share with him articles about discrimination faced by women and lead conversations about different gender issues,” she says.

She reminds him particularly of the importance of respecting girls and women, as she is concerned about the prevalent notions of masculinity that teach aggression and trivialise women’s roles and voices.

Norliza thinks parenting can play a crucial role in reducing bullying and overcoming gender stereotypes.

“If adult role models display positive attitudes and actions, such socially-aware behaviour will naturally translate to youth and children,” she says.

Her son, Irfan, 13, recently attended a Youth Change Maker workshop upon his mother’s encouragement. He contributed to our conversation and showed a sensitivity to gender issues and violence that surprised us, for a boy his age.

“Boys don’t always need to be masculine and ‘tough’. Muscles only show that you are physically strong but you might not be mentally or emotionally strong. Boys can also do housework and roles should not be decided by gender.”

Gender divisions and the disproportionate violence that women and girls face are glaring to Irfan. Still, he has hopes for his generation, and suggests that learning about harmful attitudes early can help eliminate the gender gap.

We were inspired by Norliza’s efforts to show Irfan he can make a difference. She encourages Irfan to stand up for his friends who might be bullied in school and calls him out when he exhibits discriminatory attitudes. She asserts that “it is better to stand up for what is right than be silent.”

Norliza recounts a time when she was disappointed in Irfan for refusing to include a particular girl in his circle of friends because she was “fat”. Through talking about it openly, she managed to get him to see how such behaviour was unfair and hurtful. She probed him to be more accepting of people’s differences, whether in appearance or otherwise.

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Norliza notes that it is challenging to ensure children develop healthy, inclusive and gender-equal views because of the many competing influences in society, many of which work to reinforce sexist attitudes and behaviours.

When asked what she would like to see in society, Norliza envisions “a society of men and women respecting each other, working with each other, having equal opportunities, roles and incomes; a violence-free society”.

Norliza and Irfan have each other on their journey towards eliminating prejudice and violence in their own lives and influencing others around them to do the same. They choose to have honest conversations about change rather accepting things as they are.

We hope that sharing their story will encourage other parents and families to think about everyday actions they can take to promote gender equality in the home and outside of it.

If you would like to share your story with us, write to [email protected].

A big thank you to Norliza and Irfan for taking the time to talk to us!

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Oppressed Majority

by Marylyn Tan, Change Maker

What happens when the patriarchy is turned on its head? Watched the French film, Majorité Opprimée (Oppressed Majority), and you’ll get a glimpse of it. The ten-minute film went viral earlier this year, despite having come out a few years before—perhaps because feminist issues are becoming ever more relevant, especially in Europe, where abortion rights and laws regarding homosexuality have ‘taken a turn for the worse’, according to the film’s creator, Eleonore Pourriat. Majorité Opprimée may have inspired the recent slew—good or bad—of gender role reversals in the media, such as that horrendously sexist Veet advertising campaign which exhorts women not to ‘risk dudeness’.

More encouragingly, however, the role-reversal trend has also been used to illustrate the problems with the way women are portrayed in audio-visual media—such as in the photoset, ‘seDUCATIve vs. MANigale’, in which one motorcycle company parodies another’s traditional ‘model in sexually-provocative poses with equally attractive vehicle’ ad campaign by replacing the women with men. Even Jennifer Lopez’s latest single, I Luh Ya Papi, explicitly lashes out against exploitative differences in marketing male and female artistes in the music industry. What I find so powerful about Majorité Opprimée, however, is the incisive, stark fashion in which little everyday instances of gender violence are depicted.

The film isn’t meant to be wholly realistic—most films aren’t—but it does set its sights on portraying a wide slew of behaviours (all within ten minutes!) that both men and women engage in that foster a narrative of violence in everyday interactions. Unknowingly, unconsciously, we have all probably been party to reinforcing sexist attitudes at some point. The film is set in an unnamed French town where it is almost immediately—though subtly—established that the women are in charge. This is a vision of a matriarchal society, and our protagonist, Pierre, illustrates this most starkly in his interactions with the women of his everyday life.  Again, it’s the microaggressions in a sexist society that the film highlights, such as being stared at on the streets in unison by a trio of women, and unprovoked—unwanted—comments on one’s appearance such as ‘how lucky you are to have such a cute daddy!’

The assertion of matriarchy is even more subtle when the women aren’t actually interacting with the protagonist. An implied balance of power is shown by issues ingrained far more deeply into this society, such as women jogging bare-chested in public, a wife’s control and restriction over what her husband can wear or must cover up, and how most, if not all, positions in authority are depicted as being held by females. In Majorité Opprimée, the men make the coffee, have to be picked up by their wives, and are told that their ‘outfits are cute’ on them. In this hypothetical matriarchy, the men have their social status constantly, and casually, belittled, such as when the protagonist’s landlady smiles dismissively and says, ‘I should really be talking to your wife.’

Majorité Opprimée, illustrates the vast range of aggressions directed at women on a daily basis (most of which aren’t even recognised as violence, but as an accepted gender dynamic). Pierre, then, might represent women as a whole, who are every day catcalled, dismissed, and assaulted all over the world. One of the film’s strongest points is its illustration of street harassment, an issue which repeatedly surfaces in today’s discussions of gender violence. To anyone who’s ever experienced any form of harassment in public—and, hopefully, to some who have not—the scenarios painted are all too real. Often, women are told that it’s not such a big deal, and even that it’s to be expected. After all, how debilitating can a single whistle by the roadside be? One catcalling comment on your appearance? A honk as a driver speeds by? These are, unfortunately, seen as unpleasant, but normal, by some people. As one of the women in the film threatens to give chase as Pierre hastens away from a junction where she’s been catcalling him, the fear for one’s own safety caused by ‘expected’ interactions is apparent. It is, to say the least, quite intolerable when one faces aggression and fear as a regular feature of daily life.

What makes Majorité Opprimée so important is the fact that violence is everywhere in popular culture, and everyday social interactions, and in various insidious ways that people who don’t usually experience it have a hard time understanding. The film takes these instances of violence and forces us to re-evaluate our understanding of what we consider ‘normal’ behaviour. Watch it. Make the people around you watch it. Perhaps some the manifold violences written into the scripts of our everyday lives will stop going unnoticed.