This is going to come as a tremendous shock to people, particularly my wife and children, but I am not, in fact, perfect.
When I write about things like sexism, racism, bullying, homophobia, etc. in SF/F circles or society in general, I do it because I believe it’s important. But I also do it because it’s personal, both because so many people I love and care about are directly affected by these things, and because — having grown up in this society — I’m still working on my own assumptions and behaviors.
I came across a blog post discussing the Hugo nominations. (I’m trying to avoid these discussions, because they do bad things to my brain, but that’s a mess for another post.) In this one, someone was pointing out that for the past six years, the Best Fan Writer category has had only a single female nominee each year (or in 2007, no women at all).
As I read, that privileged, sexist crap I complain about came crashing through my head. My brain was a bingo card of dumbassery.
- Wait, is she saying I only got on the ballot because I’m a guy?
- People shouldn’t vote based on gender. It should be about the writing!
- Why oh why has fandom declared War on Penises?
Okay, I’m exaggerating with that last one. The point is, my initial, gut-level response was to take it personally, and to go through some of the same reactions that piss me off when I see or hear them from others.
You know what? They piss me off when they come from me, too. Because the poster is absolutely right. There are brilliant, powerful, amazing women writing out there, and it speaks ill of us that we’re not recognizing more of them.
Nobody’s saying I only got on the ballot because I’m a guy. I don’t believe anyone looked at their Hugo ballot and said, “Well, I like Cat Valente, but Jim Hines has a Y chromosome, so I’m nominating him instead. Go Team Penis!”1
But does the fact that I’m a guy give me an advantage? Yeah, it does. I have more freedom to write whatever I like, with less fear of backlash. I’m given more respect and authority when I write, I’m taken more seriously.
That’s not a comfortable thing for me to acknowledge. I want to believe that everything I’ve achieved has come 100% from my own inherent awesomeness … but it just ain’t so.
This doesn’t change the fact that I’m a good writer. (That’s right, I said fact! My ego blows raspberries at the haters!) It doesn’t change how honored I feel to be on that ballot. It doesn’t diminish the things I’ve achieved. What it does is start to acknowledge the reality of the context in which I’ve achieved those things, the advantages I’ve been given.
None of us are perfect, and most of us have absorbed ideas, beliefs, and attitudes that we need to work on. It’s hard, sometimes painful work to dig up and examine those beliefs, and to start to change our behaviors.
But it’s important work. And it’s work I hope and expect to be doing until the day I die.
—
- It’s been correctly pointed out in the comments that having a penis or Y chromosome does not equal being a guy, and vice versa. It’s not that simple or straightforward. ↩
Mirrored from Jim C. Hines.
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thanks for writing this
And I felt physically punched in the gut, because it reminded me of all those other times I'd had people tell strong women that they only counted if a man validated them; like my history teacher at school being told she need a "male guarantor" to enter into a hire purchase agreement for a washing machine, or my law tutor at Oxford being told - by the Oxford and Cambridge club, no less - that she wasn't allowed as a "lady associate member" to borrow books from the library without a male co-signatory or a colleague being told she couldn't go out to the Middle East to negotiate a contract unless accompanied by a senior male family member.
And the one thing that helped tremendously in easing that sense of hurt, frustration and - frankly - negation (thirty five years and NOTHING has changed) was Scalzi bobbing up two comments below to ask that clown "What the fuck are you on?" and to point out he did not and could not validate ANYTHING about the essay.
Because idiots are always with us. But it's really, really helpful when those who would otherwise benefit from their idiocy push that cup away from them and make it clear they've done so.
So, thanks.
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Re: thanks for writing this
I've stopped counting how many times I'll say something in a blog post which is basically just a restatement of something a woman has said, but now that I'm saying it, suddenly people start paying attention. (Some of that is due to the fact that I've got a decent-sized readership, yes ... but it happens even when the woman in question has an equivalent audience.)
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Re: thanks for writing this
From:
Re: thanks for writing this
Unfortunately, a lot of the time these events are run by people with no training or understanding of what the exercise is for, no understanding of group dynamics, and no idea how to really use an activity to help a group.
Yeah, it's a button for me. I'll stop grumbling now.
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Re: thanks for writing this
From:
Re: thanks for writing this
I actually enjoyed working with groups with different levels of ability or fitness. I remember in the beginning when I was getting trained and we had a group member in a wheelchair, so I asked if we should adjust the rules. The experienced person said nope -- but it forced the group to acknowledge things and figure out how to get through as a team. Our job as facilitators was to help them through that problem-solving, and to make sure everyone stayed physically and emotionally safe.
We didn't have umpires or scorecard either, which I suspect is another significant difference. And if a group failed to complete an activity, that provided some great discussion and learning opportunities too.
I loved the groups that looked for ways to bend and stretch the rules, though. The more creative, the better. Every once in a while they'd even come up with something I hadn't thought of or seen before :-)