Tag Archives: Women’s Rights

All the Bookish Ladies (#postac)

Denver has its own Lilly Ledbetter! Introducing Sturm College of Law professor Lucy Marsh.

Marsh has sued the University of Denver for system-wide wage discrimination.

About which I say: ten years in academia taught me that the ivory tower may as well be Rapunzel’s home, for all the gender equity you’d find there.

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This American Life Defines Privilege

I keep wanting to blog about Mad Men, but I haven’t the time to do it properly! And as Momma always told me, if you can’t blog properly, don’t blog at all.

Meanwhile, I caught the first act of the latest TAL on my commute this morning. An aimless, laid-off white dude walks across the USA: “Walking to Listen,” as he puts it. On a sign. To avoid looking homeless?

And gol dernit if he didn’t remind me that every “American” story is a white straight man’s story.

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Exploitative Headline Award: Runner Up

Are Female Politicians Really Good for Women?

Ugh ugh ugh ugh. UGH.

Usually I enjoy Irin Carmon’s writing. And usually the garish design is the only thing that really bugs me about Salon.

But hassenfrassenbuttercrap, Salon.¬†That’s the kind of question that I’d expect from Peggy Noonan. And it’s a stupid question.¬†

The question that matters: How can we make sure that our political leadership adequately represents our citizenry?

Which means: How can we come close to gender parity in our political system? And racial parity? And, gasp, sexual orientation parity????

Leaders—political, corporate, whatever—from disenfranchised groups have to work twice as hard. We expect them to represent both their own identity groups and the rest of us. And so we judge them extra, according to a multitude of conflicting standards. But is this BAD FOR WOMEN? Is Barack Obama BAD FOR BLACK PEOPLE?


That’s all that’s going on with whatever inside baseball politics mishugas that Carmon’s reporting on re: Christine Quinn, out lesbian mayoral candidate in NYC, who has consulted with Gloria Steinem and entertained a variety of advices about the political wisdom of advocating for paid sick leave.


On the other hand, my desire to blog about the horrible headline is the only reason I read the article.

Exploitative headlines get page views. It’s a clickenclack media world.


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Seneca Falls, Selma, and Stonewall

I can’t think of a time that a president has so directly, forcefully, thoughtfully, and eloquently argued that we must pay attention to those whose voices are weakest if we want our country to fulfill its promise.


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Many Dimensions to Our Culture of Violence

Many words, lately, on violence, guns, and women. It would take me all day to find all the links for you, so you can trust me on it. Aurora, Newton, Steubenville, this lovely meditation on the “slow violence” culture impels women to do unto their bodies daily.

This blog is forcing me to wrestle with the fact that what we can accept as obvious in academic humanities circles—that we live in a rape culture, for example, in which violence against women is the unquestioned norm pervading most of our daily life–actually takes a really long time to explain to people new to the concept. But sometimes examples of it can help.

I don’t intend to add to the litany about guns, violence, and gender. But it was all on my mind as I read this riveting NYT Magazine piece about a remarkable family who sought to use newfangled, hippy-dippy “restorative justice” to forgive the boy who killed their daughter and to give him a life-giving, rather than life-destroying, sentence.

Conor McBride

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Women and Children in Court

Did you guys know that the New Yorker runs True Crime stories? It’s true. Maybe once or twice a month the smartypantses will publish a beautifully written, carefully researched, and thoughtfully interpreted tale of grizzly murder.

A few years back, I was captivated by Janet Malcolm’s reporting on Mazoltuv Borukhova, the Queens woman convicted of hiring a hit man to kill her ex-husband after a judge awarded custody of their daughter to him. Malcolm turned the courtroom drama into a book, which I haven’t read but want to. If I can stomach it. Which I’m not sure I can.

This all came back to me because in the last few New York Review of Bookses, Malcolm updates us on Michelle. Who? Michelle. Michelle Malakova. The daughter.


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