paper anniversary

This time last week I was trying to get to sleep with sirens skidding past my bedroom window and helicopters circling overhead.

It was our second wedding anniversary and we had decided to walk home after dinner with some friends. Tentatively walking down Old Street and Hackney Road the reality of the riots we have been glued to on-line suddenly turned my stomach and pricked my skin into high alert. All the shops were closed and the usual stream of wannabes coming out of the pubs were nowhere to be seen.

It was shocking the scale of the violence and how arbitrary it spread. It felt like the illusion of peace and stability was just the emperors new clothes, and that night it felt like we would remain insecure and scared walking home at night, gangs of feral kids and police powerless to control.

And it was confusing; community spirit was revealed in the Stoke Newington shop keepers protecting their livelihoods and in rival gangs who normally shoot at each other for crossing into the wrong street were joining forces. Initial empathy for a generation who have been abandoned quickly replaced with deep concern for the small shop owners and the people fleeing their burning homes. 

Yet how quickly we return to familiar and the predictable. How quickly its over and we have to remind ourselves it wasn't a dream.

I can't analyse why or what caused the riots or what the solutions are. Its complex and there is enough analysis right now. But it did remind me of this poem. Did the rioters in England in 2011 know what they are fighting for? And did the Latin American revolutionaries know what they are fighting for?

I'll never forget my philosophy lecturer at university spontaneously scrapping the set topic and railing against the introduction of the tuition fees, how he had to publish a quota of articles in order to pay his family bills, leaving him no time to 'be a good tutor'. He apologised, said it was an outrage. He couldn't believe we weren't up in arms, protesting, rioting for the poor education we were getting at rip off prices. And this was over a decade ago, before university graduated you with a £25k debt. Well I remember feeling ashamed and momentarily inspired. But as soon as I left the hall I was out buying records and dancing at what felt like the most important place to be while the world outside shaped our future.

Self Portrait at Twenty Years

I set off, I took up the march and never knew

where it might take me. I went full of fear,

my stomach dropped, my head was buzzing:

I think it was the icy wind of the dead.

I don't know. I set off, I thought it was a shame

to leave so soon, but at the same time

I heard that mysterious and convincing call.

You either listen or you don't, and I listened

and almost burst out crying: a terrible sound,

born on the air and in the sea.

A sword and shield. And then,

despite the fear, I set off, I put my cheek

against death's cheek.

And it was impossible to close my eyes and miss seeing

that strange spectacle, slow and strange,

though fixed in such a swift reality:

thousands of guys like me, baby-faced

or bearded, but Latin American, all of us,

brushing cheeks with death.

Roberto Bolaño

(translated from the Spanish by Laura Healy)

Boys chatting football, girls chatting love

In the office while making a cup of coffee this week, I was impressed by a professional and serious discussion taking place about strategy by two of the few men in the office. They sound so serious, expert and intelligent discussing tactics and management.  It was only after a few minutes that I realised they were discussing football, a hobby. It was a way of having small talk and bonding (with the few other men around) but sounded more informed and intelligent than when they discuss work – their actual expertise. 

I am also amazed at the amount of chat by women about relationships, their love lives, family, parents, or friends. Not just in the office, but in the pub, over coffee, walking in the park. The analysis is often as in-depth as the football chat.

This is an old cliché. That men talk about football and women talk about emotions and relationships. Its obviously an absurd generalisation and stereotype. There are lots of women that love discussing sport. And I discuss relationships and love with my male friends just as much as with my female friends. Sometimes more.

What is interesting though is how these habits are ascribed gender characteristics. Apparently men talk about football because they don’t do emotions and are better at facts and physical strength. And women talk about love because they are better at emotions and relationships.

But I really doubt how much this is down to differences in men and women and whether these are ‘male’ or ‘female’ characteristics. 

I have a longstanding argument with my husband about the differences between men and women. I think that there are little or no differences except physiological and biological differences and everything else is a process of social conditioning and learning what it is to be ‘male’ and ‘female’.  I sometimes go even further and argue that women are ascribed characteristics that prevent them from succeeding in life. My pet hate is multitasking. I think women are told they are naturally good at multitasking because it means they are more conditioned to perform menial jobs that require juggling lots of small things, and gets men off the hook with domestic chores.  Multitasking is a useful skill if you’re a mother juggling a baby, cooking and your long list of things to do. Its useful if you have an administrative role at work. But its no good if you need to focus and concentrate – an apparently ‘male’ trait. 

Gustavo thinks this is absurd and that men and women are clearly totally different and have different clusters of characteristics because of their gender.

Well a new report out this week by the think tank Demos put this debate on the political agenda. In the report Yvonne Roberts argues that there is evidence to support my theory that it’s all largely learned and conditioned by parenting, schools, and the wider society. She does point out that the scientific evidence is confusing and could be used to draw either conclusion.  

But while the jury is out on the evidence, I think it makes sense to try to keep gender away from characteristics as much as possible because of the constraints that this can put on equality, success and happiness.  The report argues that confusion about what is masculine and feminine restrains women (it’s not feminine to be tough at work and push for promotion, and women are good at multitasking so take the lion’s share of domestic work) and it also constrains men (its not masculine to be good at communication – a skill required to find job where there has been a shift from manufacturing to predominantly service economy).
 

Roberts adds some evidence to my previous post about the lack of good female role models in film.  In a study of Hollywood films released from 2006-2009 out of 5,554 lead characters only 29% were female and out of these a quarter were eye candy (compared to 4% of men). Roberts asks the same question I’ve been wondering, ‘So where are the positive heroines?’

Female Warrior, Greek statue

Interestingly a worthy new group, the Man Collective, has been set up to help men redefine what masculinity is. They feel they are part of a generation of men who feel lost and confused about their role now that they are no longer the ‘breadwinner’. 

I have many male friends struggling with this inherited idea they should be the ‘breadwinner’, earning enough to ‘take care of the family’, while in reality their partners are earning more or they aren’t in a position to earn enough to be defined as the ‘breadwinner’.  And this is despite the fact that they know rationally this is absurd, that we don’t live in that world anymore, and that one of the reasons they are attracted to the women they are with is because of their ambitious or success at work. 

Generations of women, rightly, have been trying to redefine femininity. Men need to do the same. And together we need to try to loosen the expectations of gender and allow for men that enjoy gossiping and women that run companies.

So an ambitious woman who is good at negotiating is not masculine, she’s just ambitious and good at her job. Or when a man is sensitive or makes an effort with his appearance he’s not ‘in touch with his feminine side’, he’s just more balanced and making an effort.

One of my favourite quotes from Roberts paper is from Edward Glover who gave an influential series of broadcasts for the BBC, arguing that women were naturally weak, needed domesticity to impose discipline, without which they would fall to ‘an orgy of knitting. Failing such solace they are inclined to eat their hearts out.’ 

Harsh! Although I quite like the image of an orgy of knitting….

Married with two names

I married Gustavo nearly two years ago and I'm still dithering about what to do with my name. I've fudged it for now by having two. I continue to use my maiden name at work and, depending on my mood, will sometimes use my married name - see blog title!

The problem is it is starting to cause confusion. At a gig on thursday night when the doorman was looking up my name on the guest list, do I give him Stone or Montes de Oca? Some friends have started using my married surname..I give him Lucy Stone as its easier to say, and out of habit. The doorman thought i was chancing it when he couldn't find me on the list and i then gave him another name.

But above the logistics is the principle. I want to have the same name as my husband as a symbol of our union. Yet I want to keep my identity and individuality whilst being part of a couple.

Does it belittle me taking my husbands name? Does it mean i'm subsuming my identity by assuming his? Or is it simply an extension of the joining together of us both in our marriage by sharing the same name?

Some people make up a new name, or merge their names as a solution. In Mexico I am Lucy Montes de Oca Stone. That's quite a mouthful and will inevitably be shortened to Lucy Montes or Montes de Oca.

For me though, the most important factor that is weighing over me is my namesake.

Lucy Stone was an amazing suffragete, fighting for women's rights and slave abolition. She was the first known woman not to take her husbands name after marriage.

She said, "My name is my identity and must not be lost."

In fact, doing a 'lucy stone' is to keep your maiden name after wedding.

 

She was not allowed to vote because she hadnt taken her husbands name and died before full rights of women to vote were established. She is a great hero for women.

So does it betray this proud association with Lucy Stone if I dont keep my name? Or is it in fact a sign of emancipation if after a century has passed I can now take my husbands name without any loss of rights?

Does it change my identity as Lucy Stone suggested? Well I dont think it does because my identity is now happily changed by being married to Gustavo.

Yet I love the name Lucy Stone. I love that it connects me to this inspirational figure.

I tried to honour her at my wedding day by speaking, that in itself still a pretty revolutionary thing for a bride to do at a wedding. Normally a bride focuses on looking beautiful, and everyone else talks about her beauty. The bride usually stays mute, smiling and staying demure.

I forced myself to speak to my friends and family because I was overwhelmed by the significance of the ritual of wedding, and wanted to thank my friends and family for creating it and being a part of it.

Gustavo was poetic and heroic. I mumbled about Lucy Stone and keeping her married name, I dont think anyone understood what I said, but it didnt matter. The point was that I stood up and confirmed that I was more than a bride in a beautiful dress. I was Lucy Stone.

So what do I do? What have others done? Can I keep both names that I love so much. But I also so want to be Mr and Mrs something.

Perhaps we could be Mr and Mrs Lucy Stone Montes de Oca.