feminist blogs

It’s been my pleasure guest blogging here for the past two weeks. (I think I’ve overstepped by one day–Labor Day screwed me up.) I tried to touch on different topics of interest to me and hopefully of interest to some of the readers here at Feminste and I’ve been excited when people took the time to write thoughtful feedback. Thanks!

Some of the comments left on the ethical tourism post have led me to start a new series of articles on my own blog, Macha Mexico: A Lesbian Guide to Mexico City, about the politics of tourism. Please check out the website over the coming weeks as we provide information about concrete, important ways to be a better tourist in Mexico and Latin America. Also, look for a series of interviews with rad Mexican feminists and queer women whose voices aren’t otherwise being heard outside of Mexico.

And now, some good news regarding abortion rights in Mexico City…

For those that don’t know, abortion laws in Mexico are set by individual states and in April of 2007, Mexico City became the first municipality to legalize abortion without restrictions up to the twelth week of pregnancy. This was awesome news for the women of Mexico City, but Mexico’s Supreme Court spent the last few weeks debating whether Mexico City’s law was constitutional

Fortunately, on August 28th, the court ruled to uphold Mexico City’s law, protecting women’s reproductive freedom within the Distrito Federal.

(cross posted to Macha Mexico)

While this is an important victory, there are still many obstacles to reproductive freedom, even in Mexico City. Anti-choice activists are proposing a referrendum in Mexico City for residents to vote on the law, which will be a hard battle for pro-choicers in the coming months. And, of course, there are the women in the rest of the country who still lack access to legal abortion. According to government estimates, more than 110,000 women get illegal abortions every year in Mexico, although activists say that this number could be higher than 500,000.

Consider giving money to one of these organizations fighting to make abortion safe and legal for women throughout Mexico.

Red Latinoamericana de Católicas por el Derecho a Decidir

The link above leads to the (Spanish language) website of the Latin American Network of Catholics for the Right to Choose, which is composed of sister organizations from Mexico, Brazil, Bolivia, Argentina, Chile and Colombia.

CDD is a partner organization of the U.S. based group Catholics for choice, which describes the work of CDD Mexico as follows:

Since 1994, Católicas por el Derecho a Decidir in Mexico-an organization committed to women’s empowerment and rights-has engaged in educational efforts that offer the progressive church community, policy-makers, legislators, health providers, educators, opinion leaders, women’s rights advocates and the general public, liberating Catholic positions on sexuality and reproductive health, gender and the rights of Catholics to make decisions based on their conscience. In a predominantly Catholic country such as Mexico, CDD’s contributions to public debates are particularly important since they reflect the diversity of perspectives that exist within Catholicism, especially on the topics of reproductive rights, sexuality, and women’s roles.

As an independent Catholic non-governmental organization (NGO) skilled in public education and advocacy, Católicas helps to bring these perspectives to public debates on democracy, gender equity, health and reproductive rights, drawing on its principles of individual conscience, Catholic social justice, women’s rights and democratic pluralism.

To contact the Mexico branch of CDD, follow the contact information here, or e-mail cddmx@cddmx.org.

Mexfam: Fundación Mexicana para la Planeación Familiar

The mission of this not-for-profit is “to provide quality, cutting-edge services in family planning, health, and sex education, prioritizing populations that are most at-risk in Mexico: youth and the poor, in both urban and rural areas.” Although their headquarters are in Mexico City, scope of their campaigns include all of Mexico, including rural areas where access to contraception is limited and there are many barriers to reproductive choice. Mexfam is also involved in the fight to pass laws protecting the rights of people living with HIV/AIDS as well as the struggle for access to quality medical care for HIV postive people.

Mexfam has clinics all over Mexico, included six in the greater Mexico City area, and macha friends have told me that the clinics are gay-friendly and that lots of lesbians go there for their women’s health needs.

You can make a donation using PayPal or a wire transfer here.

This is just a short list (tomorrow is the first day of school for this busy teacher), but please check back to Macha Mexico over the next week for more links and ways to get involved in supporting the struggle reproductive freedom in Mexico.

I’ve been privileged enough to spend a good portion of the last two summers involved in creating a queer neo-burlesque scene in Mexico City with an amazing group of talented individuals. It all started two years ago when a group of new chilango friends found out I did burlesque and arranged for me to perform at the Festival Lésbico in Mexico City. I’d never performed for such a huge lesbian audience before, and it stands out in my memory as one of the best shows of my life. The crowd was amazingly supportive, cheering and hollering for more, offering me heartfelt congratulations as I walked off the stage, and eagerly talking to me and asking me questions after the show.

It was due to the success of that performance that my friends and I planned for me to teach a burlesque workshop in Mexico City the following summer, which was my first time teaching a burlesque workshop, as well as my first time teaching exclusively in Spanish. A friend of mine who had taught burlesque workshops in New York told it to me straight, “Teach from your experience, from your strengths. If you’re not a great dancer, don’t teach them how to dance. Teach what you know.” It was excellent advice, and in addition to teaching a bit about the burlesque history and what I believe are the elements of an interesting and entertaining burlesque act, I also tried to work conversations about feminist burlesque into the workshop.

I was so proud of the acts that were spawned by that workshop, and remain awed by the creativity and bravery of the participants, many of whom had never been on a stage before, let alone done a strip-tease before. Even more impressive than our “recital,” however, was the burlesque troupe that grew out of this workshop when the participants decided to continue performing after I had gone back to New York, producing their own shows in a city that doesn’t exactly have a surfeit of queer-friendly performance venues.

This summer, I was invited to join this group on a mini-tour to Oaxaca City, sponsored and organized by queer arts collective Luzónica, during which, two important things happened:

1) Our group participated in several interviews with local newspapers, during which we really tried to address this idea of performing burlesque that was feminist.

2) During our big show, almost all of the female performers were hasseled and/or groped by male audience members as we traveled from the stage to the dressing room.

These events got me thinking once again about what feminist burlesque means in the first place. First of all, I’m not one of those people who believes that burlesque is inherently feminist, just like I don’t believe that sex work is inherently feminist, or that motherhood is inherently feminist, or any other complicated activity/institution/tradition is inherently feminist. You can work to make them feminist. You can approach them from a feminist perspective (whatever that means). But they are not inherently feminist.

As the grandmother of modern musical theater, vaudeville, and striptease, burlesque has a complicated history. If we trace its origins back to the 19th century, burlesque started out as a form of theater for the working classes that would parody aristocratic traditions such as operas and other “high brow” art forms. Overtime, the role that women’s bodies and sexuality played in selling “burlesque” to the masses increased little by little, from featuring women wearing flesh-colored tights (racy in the 1860’s), to “belly dancing” and other “sexy” dance moves, to the type of striptease anyone who has seen Gypsy is familiar with. The “neo-burlesque” scenes that exist in so many American cities today draw from this rich history, but also have the opportunity, and, I believe, the obligation, to differentiate themselves from the parts of it that are ugly and unjust.

So, here’s a draft of my manifesto-in-progress about what it means to create a burlesque scene that is feminist.

Tips for Burlesque Performers

• There is a long history of using racist stereotypes in burlesque themes and costumes and music. This is a part of burlesque’s history that we need to depart from. This means, if you’re not of Chinese ancestry, don’t do a “China Doll” number. If you’re not Native American, don’t do a “woo woo woo woo woo coyboys and Indians” number. If you’re not Latina/West Indian, don’t do a “Carmen Miranda”/”island girl” number. And, finally, if you’re not Black, don’t do a “primitive/savage” number, or an “Aunt Jemima” number, or a “ghetto princess” number. You can’t defend this by calling it “classic” or an “update on a classic.” At best, it’s culturally appropriative, at worst, it’s incredibly racist, no matter that you’re “not a racist” or “didn’t mean it that way.” Don’t take advantage of the fact that most burlesque audiences (in New York, anyway) are white (and apathetic/ignorant about racism) to perform your racist act. Just don’t do it. It’s fucked up, it’s not funny, and it’s lazy artistry. As a community of performers, we can and must do better than this.
• If someone you’re performing with is doing a number you think is racist, don’t just ignore it. Just because the audience loved it doesn’t make it OK. Have a conversation with them telling them how you feel. Don’t be afraid of being “politically correct.”
• Don’t be afraid to make your acts more political! Sure, it’s not for everyone, and not every act can (or should) have a “message,” but a well-constructed number that is fun, sexy, and also says something is something to be proud of. Don’t force it, but experiment with working one into your repetoir if it makes sense.
• Be respectful of sex-workers. I mostly mean two things by this. First, being a burlesque performer does not make you a sex-worker (although, of course, there are performers who are both), so don’t go around claiming sex-worker identity just because you do burleque. It’s different. Second, don’t insult strippers just because being a burlesque performer is different from being a stripper. You are not better than a stripper just because you don’t take off all your clothes, or because you think you are more of an artist, or because you are not “in it for the money,” or whatever you are telling yourself to that effect. We can coexist supportively.
• Strut your stuff and have fun. There are few things as awesome to see as a woman (no matter what age, shape, or size) enjoying her sexiness and working it on stage.

Tips for Burlesque Producers

• Hire an M.C. who knows how to control the crowd and can set a supportive, fun, light-hearted tone. This is so important in making sure the audience has fun and the performers have fun and feel comfortable. The ideal M.C. should be able to teach the audience (if they are new to burlesque) how to cheer and be a good audiece, as well as what is not acceptable behavior and what the consequences will be. And, they should be able to do this in a way that is funny and makes the audience feel at home. I admit that these M.C.’s are hard to find, but they are important and great and they will make your show go smoothly by setting a tone that is supportive and fun. (Also, if most of your performers are women, try to mix it up between men and women M.C.’s. There are some great female M.C.’s out there that should not be overlooked!)
• If you are producing a burlesque show, it is your responsibility to create an environment that is safe and comfortable for your performers. That means having staff on hand ready to deal with excessively drunk, aggressive, or abusive audience members. And by “deal with,” I mean “kick out.” Burlesque performers are hardly delicate flowers who live in fear of being crushed, but we don’t like to be heckled, groped, harrassed, followed to our cars, or otherwise made to feel unsafe or uncomfortable. Anyone giving the performers (or women or queer people of people of color in the audience) a hard time needs to be ejected and banned from future shows. Plan for this just in case.
• Look at how the space you are using is set up. Are performers given adequate privacy when they are changing their clothes? Do performers have to walk through a crowd from the stage to the dressing room? If so, is someone on hand to escort them if the crowd is a little “grabby”? Maybe you know your crowd better than some of the guest performers, so use your expertise to see what changes need to be made to accomodate performer safety and comfort.
• Different performers have different policies regarding photographs of their performances. Some want as many photos taken all the time, in all states of undress. Others are fine with photos as long as they don’t end up on pornographic websites. Others like to have some control of what photos are taken and what they are used for. Others still just want a copy of whatever photos are taken to use on their own websites and publicity. Again, burlesque performers aren’t delicate flowers. We are realistic about nude or semi-nude photos of us getting slapped up on the internet. But, if you are producing a burlesque show, as a courtesy, check with performers in advance about their own photo-policy preferences and decide ahead of time what the policy will be. Or, if you have a specific photo-policy in place, make sure invited performers know what to expect in advance, so that those with photo-limits will be able to decide whether they feel comfortable performing at your show. Also, make sure audience members are aware of your photo policy and that it is appropriately enforced.
• On a related note, ask performers whether they are OK with documentary photographers or videographers coming back stage to take pictures. I can’t tell you how often this happens, often with no warning.
• Take a good long look at who you are inviting to perform. If they are mostly white, mostly skinny, and mostly young, then you’ve got some work to do. I’m not talking about tokenism. (Simone de la Ghetto has incorporated critiques of tokenism into her performances.) Reach out to performers who fall outside mainstream (Dita Von Teese) standards of beauty. (No disrespect meant to Dita, but there are many talented performers out there who don’t have “perfect bodies” or white skin.) But don’t just reach out. Really look at what you can do to make the burlesque show/scene you are creating more friendly to performers that aren’t the average (white, thin, young, able-bodied). In case you were worried, know that audiences really do like all different kinds of beauty.
• Look at your audience and your location. If your show is in Bed Stuy, but your audience is all white, then you’ve got some work to do. Where are you advertising? How are you advertising? What are you doing to make sure people of color are welcome at your show? (Not having performers or M.C.’s who trade on racism in their acts might be a start.)
• On that note, if you know a performer does racism numbers, don’t ask her to perform in your show. Or, if you absolutely must invite that performer, explain that your show doesn’t allow racist numbers and that they aren’t welcome to perform certain acts. Maybe they’ll get the idea.

Tips for Burlesque Audiences

• First of all, at a burlesque show, cheer like crazy whenever you see anything you like. Do everything you can to show the performers that you think they are beautiful, brilliant, and talented.
• Don’t only cheer for performers that are skinny, white, with little waists and big tits. One of the best compliments I ever got was from some random guy after a show who said, “Thank you for making me think something is sexy that I never thought was sexy before.” He was talking about my armpit hair. So, keep an open mind. I’ve been blown away by the different kinds of sexiness I’ve encountered in burlesque shows over the years, from performers I never expected to blow me away.
• Similarly, if you are a straight guy, and there happens to be a male performer (gay or straight), don’t groan with disappointment or murmur something homophobic to your buddy. Ditto if there is a performer who is a queer woman. Burlesque is pretty damn gay. Get over it.
• Needless to say, don’t grope, heckle, or harrass the performers. If you want to grope someone, you should be paying them a lot more than what you probably paid to get into that burlesque show. If you have a tendency to do this when you drink, and if you have a tendency to drink when you go out, then do us all a favor and stay sober or stay home.
• Needless to say, respect the photo-policy. It doesn’t matter if you are an “artist” or a “journalist.” When you are at a burlesque show you are a guest. Treat your hosts and their rules with respect.
• If you’re going to write a review of a burlesque performance, focus on the artistry, creativity, and talent of the performers more than just descriptions of their bodies. After all, it’s not talent that gives someone a specific weight, height, or cup size, but it takes talent to keep six hoola hoops up in the air, to dance en pointe as you undress, to twirl tassels on your ass, or to turn a disgraced children’s show host into the vehicle for a burlesque act. Give credit where credit is due and don’t bother mentioning who has cellulite or who has big tits.

As feminist burlesque performers, producers, and audience members, we have an obligation to create a neo-burlesque scene that is safe for all women and queer people and otherwise socially responsible.

So, that’s my manifesto-in-progress. It’s far from perfect, far from original (and I suspect I am mostly preaching to the converted here), but it’s a synthesis of some things I’ve been thinking about. I welcome comments, questions, and additional tips, as well as stories of amazing burlesque performances they have seen. Please link to artists when possible to give them credit. Also, share your stories of challenges you have faced as burlesque performers or producers in trying to create burlesque that is feminist.

An interesting conversation is brewing among New York Times readers about a recent post in the paper’s “Well” blog about prescription drug sharing among women. Blogger Tara Parker-Pope wrote, “…drug-sharing rates were highest among younger women ages 18 to 44, raising special concerns about side effects and health risks of unchecked prescription drug use among women who might become pregnant,” prompting comments by many women “of child-bearing age” who expressed frustration over being considered “pre-pregnant,” and often nothing more, by the medical community. Particular sobering was comment #172, which drew a line between this type of attitude and the Bush administration’s proposal requiring health organizations receiving federal aid to hire health care providers regardless of whether they refuse to prescribe birthcontrol, emergency contraception, or perform abortions.

Although she responded defensively to women’s comments at first, Tara Parker-Pope has followed up with a podcast of an interview with Cindy Pearson from the National Women’s Health Network, in which they discuss in greater depth the implications of the medical community’s difficulty in seeing “women of childbearing age” as valuable patients in their own right. I recommend checking out the conversation if you have time.

Coincidentally, I read the “Well” column about five minutes after getting somewhat worked up about this article, titled “Vitamin D Deficiency May Lurk in Babies.” The article explores some recent findings that babies who are exclusively breastfed may be at higher risk for vitamin D deficiency and related conditions such as rickets. I’ll be honest and say that I was nervous while reading the article, afraid that it would draw the conclusion that formula is healthier than breastmilk and was relieved when they reported that vitamin D deficiency in babies can be prevented with a few vitamin drops.

“I completely support breast-feeding, and I think breast milk is the perfect food, and the healthiest way to nourish an infant,” said Dr. Catherine M. Gordon, director of the bone health program at Children’s Hospital Boston and an author of several studies on vitamin D deficiency, including Aleanie’s case.

“However,” Dr. Gordon continued, “we’re finding so many mothers are vitamin D deficient themselves that the milk is therefore deficient, so many babies can’t keep their levels up. They may start their lives vitamin D deficient, and then all they’re getting is vitamin D deficient breast milk.”

Wait a minute, mothers are vitamin D deficient themselves? That seems important, especially because, according to this very article, vitamin D deficiency can cause osteopenia (low bone mineral density), osteoporosis, diabetes, autoimmune diorders, and cancer. Surely the article addresses ways women themselves can end their vitamin D deficiencies, even if only as a means of being better breastmilk providers for their children!?!?

Sorry, no dice. As far as this article is concerned, the only thing newsworthy about women’s vitamin D deficiencies is that they are crummy vitamin D delivery systems for their children.

This article’s failure to address adult women’s health concerns reminded me of an experience I had last summer when my friend Rebecca called me in a panic one morning, asking for me to drive her to the hospital after she had unexpectedly broken her foot while walking across a parking lot. When the doctor heard that the brake hadn’t occurred during a fall or other serious impact, she recommended getting a test for vitamin D deficiency and made several suggestions about tips for building healthy bones as an adult woman.

Because osteoporosis is a potential side effect of vitamin D deficiency, here are some tips for women at different ages in their life interested in preventing the disease:

• Up through your twenties, you build bone density; after that, you maintain what bone density you have. Keep this in mind when considering your diet, at any age. If yours is low in calcium or vitamin D, consider changing it or taking supplements.
• Get some sun! Even though it is wise to be cautious about skin cancer, ten to thirty minutes of sunlight (depending on your skin tone and personal needs) helps decrease vitamin D deficiency.
• If you have risk factors such as a family history of osteoporosis, consider getting a bone density test at menopause. Otherwise, consider getting one at the age of 65. Transwomen should consult with their endocrinologist about how hormone levels have affected their bone density and when to have bone density tests.
• Do weight bearing exercise if you are able (such as dancing, jogging, or other movement where you hold your weight up), which builds bone matrix.

This is nowhere near a complete list, but is perhaps slightly more helpful than the generic “take more calcium” advice that seems to be the party line re: osteoporosis. I’m about the farthest thing from a doctor and this list is a compilation of tips I’ve heard from doctor friends of mine, internet resources, and conversations I’ve had with my own doctor. For a much more exhaustive collection of health resources for women, Our Bodies, Ourselves has gathered many women-oriented web-resources.

Regardless of the specific health issue, we all (regardless of gender) hope for access to quality medical care with providers we trust, who take our concerns seriously, and who put our needs and desires as patients first. Unfortunately, the idea that women’s health concerns are obscured when they are of “child bearing age” by the health of their children and (more insultingly) the children their doctor believes they might conceive, is another obstacle to quality medical care.

How do your experiences compare to those of the women responding to Parker-Pope’s column?

Golf is not something that is usually on my radar screen (unless I’m getting worked up about how golf courses buy water rights to maintain their unsustainable lushness in draught-affected areas or about how the Bush administration claims to have increased the amount of wetlands in the U.S. by counting golf courses as wetlands), but this article about the LPGA’s new policy really caught my attention.

Apparently, the Ladies Professional Golf Association has decided that its members “must be conversant in English by 2009 or face suspension.”

“We live in a sports-entertainment environment,” said Libba Galloway, the deputy commissioner of the tour, the Ladies Professional Golf Association. “For an athlete to be successful today in the sports entertainment world we live in, they need to be great performers on and off the course, and being able to communicate effectively with sponsors and fans is a big part of this.

“Being a U.S.-based tour, and with the majority of our fan base, pro-am contestants, sponsors and participants being English speaking, we think it is important for our players to effectively communicate in English.”

The LPGA and the other professional golf tours, unlike professional team sports, are dependent on their relationships with corporate sponsors for their financial survival.

Although Galloway insisted that “the vast majority” of the 120 international players on the LPGA circuit already spoke enough English to get by, she declined to say how many did not. There are 26 countries represented on the LPGA Tour. South Korea, with 45 golfers, has the largest contingent.

For me, this is sad for two reasons.

The first obviously, is the LPGA’s decision to cater to the xenophobia, perceived or accurate, of the ladies golf-watching community. I mean, it’s golf. You don’t need to speak English to play it extremely well. You don’t need to communicate with any team mates. I’ll be honest, I don’t know the first thing about golf, but my guess is that the qualities that make someone an awesome golfer, that make them exciting to watch (I mean, as exciting as golf can be…), don’t have a lot to do with their ability to say, “I’m so happy I won, I dedicate this tournament to my family” (or whatever golfers say when they are interviewed by the press after tournaments). The idea is that American viewers (and, by extension, American sponsors) just don’t relate to foreign athletes, especially when they look “foreign” (read: Korean), especially when they augment their foreigness by having the audacity to speak in their native tongue. “Don’t they know they’re in America? We speak ENGLISH here! I mean, I think it’s funny when Margaret Cho makes fun of her parents’ accents, but I’m not about to buy golf balls recommended by someone who doesn’t even speak clearly!”

The second thing this got me thinking about was the second-class status of women’s athletics in all areas. Nothing new, I know, but still depressing. I mean, the MPGA isn’t so skiddish about their sponsorship that they have to impliment an idiotic policy like this. Oh wait, their not even called the MGPA, are they? They’re just the PGA (and the PGA TOUR, which I just learned is a different entity). Because anything called the Professional Golfers’ Assosiation is obviously for men, just like the NBA. I forgot.

This is some sad news.

Call me sappy (and putting aside my complicated feelings about marriage), but it makes me happy that she got to marry her long term partner before she passed.

Del Martin is best known for co-founding the Daughters of Bilitis, which was the first national lesbian organization in the United States, but was also involved in the National Organization for Women (where she helped combat homophobia within the organization), the Alice B. Toklas Democratic Club, and, later in her life, in Old Lesbians Organizing for Change.

She also co-authored several books, one of which, Lesbian/Woman, was read outloud to me by my best friend in her bedroom when I was 13 and was trying to figure out what being queer was all about.

According to a statement by Geoff Kors, executive director of Equality California, “gifts in lieu of flowers can be made to honor Del’s life and commitment and to defeat the California marriage ban through the National Center for Lesbian Rights NO on 8 committee at www.nclrights.org/NoOn8.”

Like many English majors who have reached their senior year of college and are unsure of what kind of job they can get with that specialized B.A. in interwar period lesbian literature, five years ago I applied to both Teach for America (TFA) and the New York City Teaching Fellows (NYCTF). I was promptly rejected by both, but applied to NYCTF again the following year, this time checking the “yes, I would be interested in teaching education” and “yes, I would be interested in teaching mathematics even though I did not major in it” boxes.

Like magic, I was accepted into NYCTF’s “math immersion program,” which provided me with a whole two weeks of extra training in math before the seven weeks of “pre-service training” that all Teaching Fellows go through before the first day of school, and in September of 2005 I began my career as a high school math teacher. As a NYC Teaching Fellow I had to earn a masters degree in math education by attending night classes two to four times a week and during the summer. The cost of this degree was automatically deducted from my pay-check every two weeks and was then partially reimbursed by a $4725 Americorp grant (which, to my knowledge, is not a given for every cohort of Teaching Fellows, but was specific to certain cohorts).

At my school, a small public high school in Brooklyn, New York, well over half of the teachers at the school are Teaching Fellows, and, at least in the three years I have been at the school, the longest any of us has stayed (yet) is three years. A few of us are starting our fourth.

And this sucks for our students. I mean, it really, really sucks. It sucks to come back to school and have to have yet another first-year-teacher as a teacher. It sucks to have six different advisory teachers in four years (the case with my old advisory). It sucks to have no continuity from year to year. It sucks for the ninth grade math teacher you really liked to disappear by the time you are in eleventh grade and wanted to ask for some extra help before the PSATs. It sucks to slowly get the impression that teaching anywhere else, or doing anything else for a job is better than staying here and working with you. It sucks to get abandoned year after year after year by young, enthusiastic teachers who saw teaching in the inner city as something great to put on that law school application.

And I know that my generation (I’m 27) is very different from my parents’ generation, where, if you could, you stayed at the same company, the same firm, the same factory, for 30 years, and when you retired you got a gold watch and a pension. We are a generation of career changers. It’s normal to jump from one job to another these days. For one, the economy sometimes forces us to. Also, a lot of professional graduate programs (law schools and medical schools) like candidates that have some work experience, that are not straight out of undergraduate programs. Besides, we pride ourselves on being ecclectic, on having a wide range of experiences. We proudly put our Peace Corp experience on our resume.

But teaching is one of those careers that doesn’t lend itself to career switching. It’s one of those careers where the longer you do it, the better you get at it (though I’m sure there are limits to this, depending on the person). And, unlike, say, a job as a copy-editor or an architect or an art dealer, when you are a teacher it really matters that you be good at what you do, since there is no one to catch and correct your mistakes before they’ve poisoned your students’ learning experiences in some way or another. If it is your job to make sure that a bunch of six year olds learn basic reading skills, and you fail, you may have just seriously fucked some six year olds. Maybe most of them will catch up in the second grade, but maybe some wont (especially if their second grade teacher is also straight out of the pre-service training…). If it is your job to make sure a bunch of 19 year olds understand basic math concepts well enough to pass a high school exit exam, and you fail, some of those students might never go back and graduate.

I’m not saying any of this to overstate the importance of teachers in the lives or their students or to freakout any first, second, third, or fourth year teachers about their individual failures (myself, obviously, included). Every new (and veteran) teacher is allowed to make mistakes. Further, I’m not saying that teachers are obligated to stay forever in shitty work environments with principals and administration that treat them badly, or in careers that they don’t find satisfying. What I’m getting at is that there is something wrong with a system that floods poorly performing schools with inexperienced teachers who leave just as they are becoming experienced teachers.

Which is why I hate Teach for America.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a big fan of the New York City Teaching Fellows either. I’m not defending NYCTF for it’s faults, which include provided precious little support and training for their new teachers as well as frightenly high turnover rates. According to a 2007 Village Voice article, by their fifth year teaching, less than fifty percent of Teaching Fellows remain from a given cohort. But at least in NYCTF the high turnover rate is seen as a failure. In TFA, the high turnover rate is designed as part of the program. TFA members are expected to leave teaching after their two-year commitment is up, those who continue to teach are seen as the exception.

TFA members are not required by Teach for America to pursue a masters in education (which, especially if you do not have an undergraduate degree in education is required to become permanently certified in most states), although some of the states where TFA has program sites require teachers to at least begin taking graduate courses as part of their alternative certification requirements. They don’t require teachers to take the steps to become permanently certified because there is no expectation that their teachers will stay in teaching once their two-year resume-building experience is over. How do I know? Because it’s on their website!

Educational inequality is our nation’s greatest injustice. You can change this.

The first three drop down tags at the top of the TFA website read, “What We Do,” “The Core Experience,” “After the Corps.” Teaching is not a career for this organization, it is an “experience.” You can write about it in your annual Christmas letter and show up your cousins who went straight to law school instead of differing for two years to work in the inner city. You now have some “cred” when talking about why No Child Left Behind sucks. Oh, and, of course, you can put it on your resume.

And TFA will help you make that resume! Just check out the “After the Corps” section of their website. It’s chock full of career services and options of what you can do after you’ve gotten tired of “closing the education gap.” They even have partnerships with various employers such as Morgan Stanley, Deloitte, JP Morgan, and Lehman Brothers, all of which allow TFA members to defer their high paying jobs as management consultants and financial analysts to teach for two years in the trenches of underachieving schools.

Still not convinced? Listen to how much those two years of teaching forever changed this TFA alumnus:

Looking back, I’m so glad I chose to teach before embarking on this next phase of my career. I developed skills that empowered me to excel beyond my peers in business school: organization, effective time management, dexterity in communication and public speaking, and the ability to think on my feet. The responsibilities I shouldered in the classroom prepared me like nothing else could for the challenges of management, communication, and intense focus that characterize my current position, where I conduct industry research, create financial models, identify industry trends, and explain their implications.

-Scott, an analyst at Lehman Brothers

Isn’t that beautiful? Isn’t that what teaching is all about? Becoming a better financial analyst?

Let’s hear what Mitch, an assistant professor of biology, has to say about his “corps experience”:

In addition to these professional lessons, my two years as a corps member had a deep emotional impact on me. I experienced how a group of dedicated teachers committed to the success of their students can go a long way towards closing the achievement gap.

I’m sorry, but I just can’t accept this. Remember high school? It took most of us about four years, right? My point is that two years is a short time to be a teacher, to be part of a school community, to be a part of students’ lives. And as someone who has been at the same school for three years so far, I can guarantee that two years is not enough time to “go a long way towards closing the achievement gap,” no matter how dedicated the teachers are.

(As an aside, for a really smart article about why the Freedom Writers myth that all schools need is highly motivated teachers who are willing to martyr themselves for their students, check out this January, 2007 New York Times opinion piece, “Classroom Distinctions” by Tom Moore. The crux of it is here: Every day teachers are blamed for what the system they’re just a part of doesn’t provide: safe, adequately staffed schools with the highest expectations for all students. But that’s not something one maverick teacher, no matter how idealistic, perky or self-sacrificing, can accomplish.)

I started thinking about Teach for American after reading this article in the New York Times Magazine about rebuilding the New Orleans public school system. Although the article focuses on the proposed effects of structural changes that are being made in the way the school district is governed (with a shift toward privately run charter schools instead of a more centralized, top down school system), I couldn’t help but notice this casual sentence (amid other descriptions of preparations that are underway for the new school year): Two hundred and fifty Teach for America teachers, nearly all recent college graduates, had just arrived to complete preparations for their new positions in schools in the region. What struck me was how, this article, which discusses various strategies for rebuilding a failing school system and repeatedly reminds us how nothing can be fixed overnight, fails to address the inherant contradiction implied by inviting a huge number of teachers, the overwhelming majority of whom won’t be around in two years.

Where will those teachers be? According to TFA’s website, they will be fighting for educational equality from all sectors. Maybe one of the many TFA members that go to law school will one day sue the NYC public school system for not adequately serving its special education students. Maybe one of the post-TFA financial analysts at Deloitte will sway her boss to donate 100 computers to a school with no technology program. (My school, for the record, received such a donation through a partnership with a major financial company.) This is part of TFA’s strategy, and it is an interesting one. It’s very possible that some of those 250 two-year teachers will make major changes in the realm of education from outside the field.

But, in the meantime, those New Orleans students will be left with new teachers year after year, rolling their eyes as they watch 22 year old Brown-graduates try to keep it cool in front of a classroom of suspicious adolescents.

Is an enthusiastic, idealistic teacher better than a burnt-out teacher? A teacher who reads the newspaper in the front of the classroom? (Yes, this happens.) A racist teacher? Of course. I have seen first hand what those teachers have done at my school in two or three years, the way they have contributed to make the school run better, to make the school a more positive place in different ways.

And let me be clear. I’m not ragging on people who leave the teaching profession. It’s a difficult and often underpaid profession. I’m not ragging on people who apply to Teach for America because they genuinely want to improve education in this country. It’s a very noble and challenging calling, and I have respect for all teachers who are working hard within a fucked-up system. I don’t doubt that most of them felt very conflicted about leaving their schools and their students.

What I’m ragging on is the way Teach for American sends the message that it’s perfectly acceptable to teach the neediest students for two years and then leave, just when you’re reaching your stride, just when you can really start to become more effective.

So, I’ll leave with this, if you’re thinking of applying to Teach for America because you want to be a career teacher, don’t. There are many other alternative-certification programs that will help you get a masters degree (and will help you pay for it). And if you’re thinking of applying to Teach for America because you are interested in doing a service project for two years before starting a different career, don’t. There are many other Americorp-type programs that lend themselves better to that time of time-frame.

In low-income schools, what a lot of students are lacking is consistancy in many areas of their lives (financial insecurity, eviction, incarceration of friends, neighbors, and family members, shitty medical and dental care, reliable transportation, etc.). The least they could have is the knowledge that they will see the same teachers’ faces in the hallways in September that they saw in June.

Introductions aside, I want to start with an informal poll. Because I run what is essentially a blog for English-speaking queer and/or women travelers (and the occasional ex-pat) in Mexico, I want to ask people what they think about the politics of travel and tourism, specifically travel from the “first world” to non-”first world” countries.

• What do you perceive are the ramifications of that type of tourism? (Broad question, I know.)

• If you have participated in that kind of tourism, how did those potential ramifications affect the choices that you made as a tourist? What choices have you made to be a more “responsible” tourist?

• Do believe there is such a thing as feminist tourism, and, if so, what does that look like?

• And, finally, how do the politics of a country affect your desire/willingness to participate in that country’s tourism? What about their human rights record?

I’m interested in hearing about specific suggestions (like those Jill was receiving about not taking “hill tribe village tours” during her current trip to southeast Asia in this post), as well as more general strategies/analyses. Needless to say, comments are not limited to those who have had the economic privilege to travel, but to anyone with constructive comments and thoughts on the subject of ethical tourism.

I suppose it’s only fair if I try to answer my own questions, so here goes…

With regard to the ramifications that “first world” tourism can have on “second” and “third world” countries, I’ll admit that I am learning more about this with every trip I take, every conversation I have on the subject. A friend of mine first brought the issue to me when we were in college, when she questioned the ethics of the “junior year abroad” program in northern Indian that she had participated in, wondering what would happen to the local economy (that had grown considerably around the program site) when the program no longer existed?

I don’t know enough about that specific situation to know if her particular concerns were warranted, but at the root of her point was the fact that these types of study abroad programs, as well as other organized tours, guide books, and other tourist infrastructure, contribute to bringing a large influx of money and spending power into local economies. Needless to say, this has positive and negative effects. Positive in the sense that the money someone makes in an afternoon selling something to a tourist might put food on the table. Negative in the sense that tourist-driven economies are often unstable (depending on the setting of whatever Leonard DiCaprio movie has just been released, what exotic locale has just been featured in the New York Times travel section, the fluctuating strength of various currencies, where a natural disaster has just killed dozens of tourists) and have the potential to seriously disrupt local traditions, economies, land-use.

So then, what choices do I make as a tourist, taking all of this into account? I try to avoid staying at big hotel chains, owned by multinational corporations, and instead try to stay at locally owned hotels, bed and breakfasts, or casas particulares, so that at the very least, my money is going into the local economy. When shopping, I try not to haggle excessively over prices, especially when buying something that was made by the seller. The five dollars I am saving is the cost of a subway ride and slice of pizza in New York, but could feed an entire family in some parts of Mexico. I think alot of times we get over-invested in the “romantic” process of haggling over prices, especially when traveling on a budget, without really considering the other “budgets” involved. I always tip the housekeeping staff. Really, everyone should do this, no matter what country you are traveling in. And if you haven’t signed (or don’t abide by) the ethical travel pledge, please do.

But seriously, it’s a drop in the bucket to say, “I gave that woman an extra five dollars. I made a difference.” I’m not saying don’t give the five dollars; I’m just saying don’t stop there. In my own travels, I’ve tried to research ways in which my own country/government/lifestyle routinely fucks over whatever country I’m traveling to. Planning a trip to Cuba? Take the time to get involved (on whatever level you can) in opposing the Helms-Burton Act. The Latin American Working Group has a lot of information about the United States’ policies in Latin America and is a good place to start before, during, or after a trip to a Latin American country.

I’ll admit that I’m not 100% sure what feminist tourism looks like. I think when a lot of feminists and other progressives travel, we often don’t stay in large hotels, go on organized bus tours, and other mainstream modes of tourism. Instead, we seek out more “authentic” experiences. We want to talk to locals, we want to eat local cuisine. We have good intentions; we want to learn as much as we can about whatever culture we are visiting.

But the problem is, our good intentions usually stop there. We have these amazing experiences traveling that “change” us so much, but unfortunately, that’s all we change. What was the result of that last trip I took? I had these experiences, I have good and interesting stories to tell, I might even be a more interesting person. But if the only person benefiting from the tourism is the tourist, then I don’t think we can call that “feminist” tourism (outside of the idea that women traveling by themselves, un-chaperoned, is still a radical act).

I think what would constitute a more substantial feminist tourism is using the experience of tourism, of being in someone else’s country, as an opportunity to network with feminist organizations that already exist there, to ask them what kind of support a foreign tourist can offer. That support might be a donation of time, money, or expertise. It might mean setting up lines of communication between feminist organizations in different countries. It might mean publicizing their causes along the lines they deem most appropriate. Whatever form of support or networking the local organizations would find most beneficial.

In terms of the last question of my “poll”, I don’t yet have an answer. In fact, in terms of all these questions, I’m still forming opinions and strategies. I figured that since I participate in “first world”/non-”first world” tourism, and run a website that is (in its small way), part of that tourism industry, I would use this forum as a place to discuss some of the issues that have been on my mind recently. For that reason, I’m incredibly interested in hearing from readers about their thoughts on all these issues, and for people to help brainstorm different strategies around ethical tourism.

Hey, everybody. I’ll be guest blogging here for the next two weeks.

Coincidentally, the timing of this guest blogging stint will expose the somewhat fractured (maybe “varied” is a better word) focuses in my life right now, which currently span a time-zone, language barriers, and a wide array of interests.

For the next week I’ll be blogging from here in Mexico City, where I live for two months out of the year, and where my girlfriend and I write Macha Mexico: A Lesbian Guide to Mexico City. It’s an English language blog meant to provide a more indepth look at dyke life in Mexico City than Lonely Planet can provide and we try to grow it little by little each week. (We also have to update old entries constantly to note which of our favorite venues have been shut down as police crackdowns and gentrification change the queer landscape here in the Distrito Federal.)

After this week I’ll be back in Brooklyn, New York, preparing for my fourth year as a math teacher in a “small” public high school where I am also a “health resource teacher,” a college counselor, and the advisor to an ever-growing gay-straight alliance.

I’m also a burlesque performer, have taught several burlesque workshops here in Mexico City, and just got back from a mini-tour with the burlesque troupe that was formed out of one of those workshops.

The content of my own blog is rarely explicitly political, but I hope to crosspost some interviews I’ve been doing with some interesting queers, feminists, and activists here in Mexico City. (Of course, I have to transcribe and translate them first…) I’m a relatively recent reader of Feministe, so feel free to link to older posts that address similar topics. Also, I apologize in advance for my terrible spelling.

I’ll start by plugging Generación Y, a Spanish-language blog that my girlfriend referred me to and that I’m just starting to read. It’s one of the only blogs being written in Cuba, where internet access is severely restricted. The English language version can be found here, plus a short article that the New York Times did about the role of the internet as a political tool in Cuba.