Free Speech vs. the Jihadists

“It’s not my role to set off bombs — that’s ridiculous. I have a weapon. It’s to write. It’s to speak out. That’s my jihad. You can do many things with words. Writing is also a bomb.”

So said Malika El Aroud, as quoted in a recent article in the New York Times. El Aroud is a Belgian woman using the internet to develop her "jihad" against the Western world, encouraging Muslim men to join the fight and women to support them in doing so.

If you could ignore the fact that she incites Muslim people to war against Western society, you might respect her for using her writing savvy to speak out. You might respect the fact that she is a woman unafraid to voice her opinion to a male-dominated society, and in fact tell those men what to do. IF you could ignore her message.

At Fringe Magazine, we are dedicated to publishing the words of writers outside of the mainstream, and we support all women in their efforts to voice their opinions and change the world. But as Suzanne Reisman noted in her blog, "how do we encourage women to share their views and experiences when we sometimes disagree with them? Who decides what is appropriate and what should be condemned?"

I believe there are times when words should be used as weapons - the words of abolitionists helped bring about the end of slavery; the words of feminists helped women get the vote in the U.S. But these "weapons" were used to include others in the conversation, not exterminate them.

Then again, maybe I would feel differently if I were on the other side of the argument. That's what freedom of speech does for us - we don't get to silence someone because we disagree with them so both sides maintain their rights to exist. But that's another thing that bothers me about Ms. El Aroud - she is on both sides of the argument. She purports conservative Muslim values (she said, "Women didn't have problems under the Taliban"), yet she is Belgian, and uses this Western side of her identity to her advantage - the very system she wishes to destroy protects her rights to speak her mind.

Is there ever a time when it's okay to preach the destruction of others? And is there ever a time when it's okay to stifle another person's right to speak?

Debt: The Big Dream Killer

Want to hear something scary? My fiance and I together owe over $120,000 in school loan debt, and we haven't even come close to entering the collapsing housing market yet. So if we were to buy a house here in Massachusetts, where it's unlikely we'd find even a fixer-upper for less than $200,000 any reasonable distance from our jobs, we're likely looking at over $300,000 in debt to start our lives together. Together, we bring in about $83,000 a year (which sounds like so much to me), so we'd owe over 3.5 times what we make in a year. That's not to mention any credit card or auto debt. No wonder we're scared to buy a house, even though we're pitching money down the toilet in rent. And children? Forget it. Can't afford them.

Compare that to my parents, who, when starting out in the mid 70s, had to pay back my dad's student loan of $3000. They bought a starter home that cost about $30,000, and my dad's starting salary as a teacher was about $15,000. They owed about twice what they were bringing in, without counting any money my mom earned before she got pregnant.

It feels unfair. We've gone farther than our parents in education, but we're wallowing under more debt than we can handle. We had more opportunity, more time to dream big, yet many of us are struggling in jobs we don't like to pay for the education that was supposed to make our dreams realities.

I don't regret going to college, but it was so easy to think of those loans like monopoly money. I just wish someone had sat me down when I was choosing paths like English and writing and said, hey, it's great to do what you love, but don't forget this isn't free. You have to pay it back. So if you aren't going down a path that will definitely lead you to a job that will pay for what you love, think about switching majors.

The irony is that you need the degree (and its debt) to get the job to buy the house that will put you in further debt. Oh, and did I mention our dollar isn't even worth as much as it used to be? But luckily, all that writing training comes in handy - I can write all my thoughts here for free, whether anyone reads or not.

A Holiday Hassle: Gifts at Work

Don't get me wrong, I love the holidays, and I love giving and receiving gifts. But after all the hassle my office has just gone through deciding how to give the gifts (yankee swap vs. secret santa), the merry has melted right out of the thing. There are so many rules to consider, so many feelings to potentially hurt. Like when the big boss takes the best gift out of the hands of the lowliest office worker, because that's how you "play." Or when the poor Jewish person is forced to trade gifts as a Secret Santa (my office elected to go with Secret Snowflake, instead). Or when someone opens your carefully selected, deprived-you-of-sleep yankee swap gift and says, "What kind of gift is this?"

Frankly, I could do without anything from my co-workers. It's enough for me to take a few hours out of work, eat some good (enough) food from our contracted caterer, and chat with everyone. But some are very adamant about it; last year someone floated the idea that rather than give each other gifts, we collect gifts for a charity. Nice idea, was the response, but we should still do yankee swap, too (and we did, so I bought two gifts instead of one).

Good grief, Charlie Brown.

Bettye LaVette

Here's a holiday recommendation for those with musically Fringey taste. I just got back from a trip to the West Coast that ended up being something of a vinyl binge, and picked up Bettye LaVette's 2005 album I've Got My Own Hell to Raise. LaVette is a soul singer who has somehow remained below the radar--possibly because her extraordinary voice is so evocative and high-octane it may make pruder listeners uncomfortable.
I've Got My Own Hell to Raise is a collection of LaVette's renditions of great songs by exclusively female songwriters. Most songs were originally performed somewhere in the intersection of country and folk (Joan Armatrading, Dolly Parton, and Lucinda Williams are all represented), and LaVette growls them up to red hot emotion. This is raw, relevant, profane soul.
You can listen to tracks on LaVette's website: http://www.bettyelavette.com/

Posted by Katie, even though it says Sarah.

Taking a Bite Out of Rape

South African Sonette Ehlers is taking women's defense in a new direction - vaginally. The former medical technician has developed Rapex, a version of the female condom that is beefed up with teeth to stop would be rapists, or at least to slow them down enough for intended victims to get away. My first thought: won't the rapists be angrier, and find some other way to hurt these women? After all, it causes no lasting damage - seems like it'll be more likely to piss them off. And as Kira Cochran of the Guardian points out, "it places the onus for stopping rape not on the perpetrators, but on women - entirely the wrong way around. It implies that rape is an inevitable part of human culture and that women need to adapt accordingly." Some have even claimed that using the device is just an act of vengeance toward the rapists.

I'm sorry, say that again? Maybe it's just an old eye-for-an-eye judgment on my part, but I think rapists deserve much worse than a few pricks that aren't permanent (excuse the pun). The fact is rape is all too common in South Africa (and many other places, too) - perhaps it will anger the would-be rapists, but it seems better to have some chance of getting away than none at all. Is it just a bandaid slapped on a larger problem? Of course it is, but someone please explain to me how we ought to go about changing the way a rapist's brain works so we can stop him from hurting women. And then make sure to change all rapists' brains. I think it's more empowering for women to have some option of defense.

And I think the teeth should be bigger.

What's in a Name?

To change, or not to change, that is the question - my last name, that is. I'm getting married, and I am struggling with this decision. I should note before continuing that my fiance is totally on board with whatever I decide (and even has expressed the opinion that maybe I should keep my own). Also, I am not resistant because his name is long and unpronounceable or anything of that nature - Ott doesn't cause much confusion. I am, however, resistant to hyphenated last names, which feel a little artificial to me.

I'm really partial to my last name. It defines me. My first initial and last name spell a real word, and it's actually fitting for my personality. People call me by my full name all the time, because there are so many Sarahs out there. Yes, I share my name with an actress, but that's kind of good - when you google me, you have to sift through all her pages before you get to any mention of me, and I like it that way. When I imagine going by a different name, I feel uncomfortable. Like I'm masquerading as someone else.

On the other hand, it's cultural tradition. Our children would have his last name, but mine would be different. People will want to call us the Otts, but I won't really be one. Maybe his family will be offended. Actually, even my mom said I should change it - "it's easier with the kids," she said. And part of me wants to be the Otts, just the way I'm part of the Miles family right now.

Most of my family members have changed their names, except for my aunt (by marriage), who never took ours. I certainly don't feel offended by that, nor is anyone else, but I know part of her decision was that there were no boys in her family to carry the name. Of course, it is ending with her, since her child shares my uncle's last name.

Help, ladies, I need advice!

It's Banned Books Week!

And we've almost missed it, but fortunately Sam Baber, an Emerson grad and good friend who blogs about culture, film, and lit, among other things, didn't forget. Check out the American Library Association to find out more about what you can do to celebrate intellectual freedom, and see lists of the most challenged books today - go out and pick one up today.

Good Intentions, Bad Word Choices: Conversations on Women's Bodies

I love my dad, but sometimes he puts his foot in his mouth. This morning he told me about a conversation he had with my mother, who recently turned 52:

MOM: I got my period again today – I thought I was through with this.

DAD: Well that’s okay – that just means you’re still all woman.

MOM: (with a raised eyebrow) So when it does stop, I won’t be a woman?

DAD: (stammer, stammer) No, no, I meant you’re still a young woman.

MOM: So then I’ll be old after menopause?

DAD: (stammer, stammer, and um, more stammering)

Now Mom’s been with Dad long enough to know he’s not purposely trying to be a jerk, and that, in his insensitive way, his intent was to make her feel better, but it did bring up an interesting question – why are conversations about women’s bodies – and I mean conversations, not commentary - often uncomfortable? I admit to feeling grossed out by what my body does sometimes, even though it’s always natural – is it a result of this discomfort?

The problem is that there isn’t enough open dialog about this, so it’s no wonder the men in our lives don’t know how to support us through these changes, or even the women for that matter. I can’t remember exactly what my dad said when I got my first period, but it was something like “congratulations – it’s supposed to be a good thing, right?” And my mother has trouble getting advice about menopause from my grandmother; Grandma can't shake growing up in a "don't ask, don't tell" atmosphere. We do have women’s health product commercials on TV, but let’s face it – those are often cringe-worthy, too, and don’t do anything to make having a period, or not having one, feel more normal. Usually these products (I’m thinking douches, estrogen pills, etc.) are focused on “fixing” the condition.

I’m lucky enough to have a Mom who will talk about any and all of this with me at great length, and I hope that others do, too. Let’s start the conversations now, with our children, moms, grandmas, partners and our dads, too – my dad may always be unsure of what to say, but at least he can learn what not to say, and why. What is this conversation like for you? How can we make it better?

Jump at the Sun: A Review by Jillian D'Urso

This is the tenth of a many-part series written by the staff and editors of Fringe Magazine, who will be reviewing books from the Pool as part of the 25 Books Project.

There’s something about reading a book by someone you see on a regular basis—something that makes the book somehow more personal, more complex, more relevant to your own daily life than it would be had it been written by a complete stranger. This is how I felt, at least, when reading Jump at the Sun, the newest novel by Emerson Writer-in-Residence Kim McLarin. With each page, heroine Grace Jefferson’s story seemed entwined with my own.

Except that Grace Jefferson is an affluent, married, African-American mother of two—demographics I know nothing about. Also, though McLarin is a familiar face around Emerson, I have never had her as a professor or really even spoken to her. So why was reading this book such a personal experience? McLarin’s writing is so visceral and her characters so real that we, as readers, are drawn inside the book.

Jump at the Sun tells Grace’s story from her own point of view, with flashbacks woven in throughout telling the stories of her grandmother and mother. As this triumvirate of narratives unfolds, McLarin deftly explores questions of race, marriage, class, and motherhood—questions that span geography and generations.

Though Grace Jefferson is blessed with a beautiful home, healthy children, and a loving husband, she feels like an impostor in her own life. Confronted with her feelings of regret and doubt, she must try to find a happy medium between the two models of motherhood in her life—her mother’s nearly self-destructive degree of devotion to her children and her grandmother’s tendency to cut and run. Grace’s search for answers culminates in a breath-taking climax you won’t soon forget.

Jillian D’Urso is a second-year graduate student in the Publishing and Writing program at Emerson College. In her abundant spare time, she enjoys coffee, The Office, and 90s music.

A Great Loss - Author Grace Paley Dies

It saddened me greatly to hear that Grace Paley, a talented writer and social activist who championed women and anti-war movements among other things, died yesterday at her home in Vermont at the age of 84.

Ms. Paley’s short stories, for which she won much acclaim, focused on women’s lives – not glamorous portrayals of the social elite, but the grittiness of everyday life for the single mother, the ex-wife, the “women that Roth and Bellow and Malamud’s men had loved and left behind,” says her obituary in the New York Times.

I first read Ms. Paley in a course called Contemporary Short Fiction, which, in this case, meant postmodern fiction and included a thick anthology with that label on the cover. The tale was “The Pale Pink Roast,” written in 1959, and told the story of a woman and the estranged father of her child, with whom she had still slept with behind her new husband’s back. I was surprised at the stark honesty of the story; she portrayed her characters with all their flaws and contradictions, leaving the reader to sort it all out, with an ear for dialog that is spot on.

Ms. Paley did not rest on her literary laurels, but worked tirelessly to effect change for underrepresented groups, and to lobby for peace in the face of war – exactly the kind of author and person Fringe Magazine aspires to publish and profile. Had she written novels instead of short stories, she’d certainly have been part of the Pool for the 25 Books Project we’re running. I urge our readers to seek out her work, learn about her life, and carry on her vision.

Anti-Feminist Line of the Day

My day job requires that I fill out a lot of forms for college students, including verifications of good student status for insurance companies that have good student discount programs. I rarely read the eligibility specifics past the part that pertains to me, but it was a slow day, so I skimmed through and found this little gem:

The Good Student Discount terminates at age 25 or if female, at the time of marriage, whichever occurs first.

Um, excuse me? Do women automatically become more reckless once they get married, and should no longer get discounts? How come a male can get married and still get this discount until age 25? Can anyone help me here, because I can't come up with one plausible reason for this rule to be in effect. This is a well known insurance carrier, and should know better. Or their lawyers should. And the form was revised 12-12-2005!

Looking forward to hearing your thoughts...

Independence Day Musings

At the end of a long, lovely day yesterday, I, my boyfriend, and another couple sat in the yard, remarking on how we’d had the perfect Fourth of July – we’d canoed a river all day, complete with a small American flag stuck to the head of one of the canoes, then headed back to the house for grilled steak tips and corn on the cob. Then we lit sparklers (the few we could get lit, that is, as they were old enough to have been in a forgotten corner of the garage). Proud Americans celebrating Independence Day – absolutely.

It’s hard not to think about our government when we think about being American; after all, it was the form of government we choose when we grabbed our independence from the British that made us different - revolutionary. When we celebrate the Fourth of July, we celebrate revolution.

Too bad we’re not really revolutionary anymore.

It makes me a bit sad to think that our most American of holidays is marked by barbecuing a few hamburgers, watching a few fireworks, waving a flag or two. Perhaps we make some big purchases during Fourth of July *blowout* sales. Maybe watch a show on Thomas Jefferson on the History Channel. It’s our culture, and we’re proud of it, but I wish Americanism had less to do with consumerism. And unfortunately it’s the consumerism that we’re so well known for. That, and our deplorable foreign policies.

I hope this is just my cynicism showing through, and that the country is filled with hopeful Americans who can and will make a significant difference in our world. If you’re out there, tell me about what you’re doing, and I’ll light a sparkler in your honor.

Oh, and if you’re looking for a good place to rent a canoe in eastern Massachusetts, check out the Foote Brothers’ Canoes – floating through the wilds in a self-powered craft is a good way to channel your inner-colonial American.

Fringe Binge 3: The Summer Solstice

That’s right, the summer solstice is upon us (okay, it was yesterday), and what better way to celebrate the longest day of the year than by partying with Fringe Magazine! It’s our annual fundraiser, and this time we’ve upgraded from my house to the fabulous downstairs at Tommy Doyle’s in Harvard Square. The party is from 7-10pm – we’ll have hot munchies to share and rockin’ beats courtesy of DJ Tanya Ca$h. So if you’re in the Boston area, come out and support independent publishing! (Cost: $7 at the door)

Bring your dancing shoes and your drinking hat!

Fatwa: When Religion Meets the Modern World

Problem 1: According to Islam, unmarried men and women cannot work together. In fact, the only males women are supposed to keep company with are their relatives.

Problem 2: Modernization in Muslim nations means men and women need to work together to advance their countries and stay competitive with the rest of the world.

The Solution (according to some representative of Egypt’s religious authorities): Women must breastfeed their male coworkers five times, thus making them relatives.

You’re thinking this must be a joke. Sadly no – I nearly dropped my coffee when I read Michael Slackman’s article on Egypt’s fatwa’s in the New York Times yesterday morning. Slackman goes on to report that while some Muslims are uncomfortable with these two fatwas, or religious edicts based on Islamic principles, many Muslims count on the fatwas to help them navigate the modern world with their religious integrity intact. People seek fatwas for everything from marriage and divorce to buying products, although no one issued a fatwa is held to it – they may seek alternate counsel or ignore it all together. Despite that, there are agencies authorized by Egypt’s government to issue fatwas, and there are a host of other sources, like internet sites and television shows. And really, those asking for fatwas want to be told what to do – they need to reconcile their beliefs with their actual lives.

The fatwa I’ve sited above has caused great controversy in Egypt, and although this need to reconcile faith and modernity may seem laughable to Westerners, let’s not forget the recent controversy in the US over a single line in the Pledge of Allegiance, nor who won that argument. At the heart of this conflict is a much deeper issue, one that involves all peoples – how much should religious rules and values formed thousands of year ago be allowed define our modern lives?

I believe everyone has a right to their own beliefs, insofar as they don’t harm others in pursuit of these beliefs, but I also think that some of the old ideas just don’t hold sway anymore, and maybe never should have. Let’s face it – a lot of religions aren’t very friendly to women, but we know women are not inherently subservient to men, or more evil, or more wayward, etc. I am confident that most people recognize the difference between good and evil regardless of their religion, and act accordingly, and those who don’t probably wouldn’t be helped by religion. I hope that as we grow as human beings people will start to make their own decisions, rather than turn to religion as a guide. But it looks like that day is a long, long way off.

Airport Security? What a Joke.

Over the weekend I flew home for the first time since the “liquid bomb” scare. I looked up the regulations on the Internet, arranged what I considered liquids in my plastic baggie, and headed to the airport.

I’ve been flying long enough to see the changes in security measures. I didn’t take of my shoes seven years ago – now I do. I used to always carry my own water bottle – no more. And I certainly always carried my $10 facial lotion, and that’s what caused me trouble this time.

“Too big,” the security agent told me of my 4 oz. bottle. “That’s a liquid?” I replied. Of course it is. She added I could go back out to the ticketing line and check my bag, then go back through the security line. I admit, I was a little angry. Okay, I threw a fit, and told her to just throw it out, and thanked her for making all the passengers on my plane more secure by getting rid of the offensive stuff.

I realize people go through this every day, and many have already made adjustments – they always check bags, risking luggage loss rather than deal with the rules, or they don’t bring any toiletries and buy them upon arrival. Many people feel the hoop jumping is justified if it makes us safer. But it’s the implicit accusation that I’m doing something wrong that annoys me. I’ve brought this lotion aboard many planes, and suddenly I’m plotting a bomb attack with it? At the airport, we’re all guilty until we successfully make it to the gate.

Maybe if the new security measures actually worked, I’d feel better about it. But since my boyfriend got through with the box-cutter he’d accidentally carried with him from work, I have a hard time believing any of the new measures are more than bureaucratic nonsense. We are still at the mercy of those who wish us harm, and airport security is practically helpless. The sooner we accept that and find other ways to change our world, the better.

My First Blog

That’s right. I’m a virgin. And I’m nervous about my first time.

Disclosure: I was raised by the technologically averse. Mom and Dad didn’t get an answering machine until I went to college in ’96, which is when I got my first computer. Cable wasn’t even available at my parents’ house until after 2000. The blogosphere? What?

I can’t help but share some of the aversion – I’m afraid to chat online, because I don’t like the idea of conversing with strangers I can’t see or hear. In a blog post, your words are naked, and your naked words are your intellect on display. No hand motions to get your meaning across, no inflections. Naked. In front of the world. AND people can make comments to your “face.”

Can you blame me for being nervous?

Despite this, blogging intrigues me because of its dependence on the written word. Although methods of communication change, written words remain central to the way we express ourselves. The blog allows us not only to express, but to connect our words with others, to link to each other in a virtually tangible way – the words are like webs themselves. The addition of music, pictures, and video to our lines is like modern illumination. Genius, really.

As a writer and editor, my highest aspiration is to add to the long, sacred tradition of written art, no matter the medium. I hope to contribute to that tradition with my blogs, and to encourage other first-timers to get started - the blogosphere is wide open territory, and we should all grab a piece.

Whew – I made it. That wasn’t so bad. I’ll work on linking next time.