Vagina Monologues performers at Dartmouth prepare for the big performance backstage. Much practice goes into preparing for each showing of the Monologues. Photograph by Amy Gu.

We don’t like talking about it, and the more we avoid the word, the more power it has over us, to the point where it has become almost taboo: VAGINA.

My vagina, your vagina, everyone’s vagina. You can’t escape vaginas. They’re everywhere—and guess what? There are more vaginas on campus then there are penises (male/female student ratio: 49%/51%). Yes, it’s a reproductive sexual organ, but it’s more than that; it’s powerful, it’s a force, it’s womanhood, it’s sexuality, it’s the source of mind-blowing pleasure.

And yet, the fact remains that most people think it’s gross to talk about vaginas. Discussion of the organ has been relegated to 9th grade sex ed classes taught by some queasy gym teacher who isn’t any more comfortable talking about vaginas than he is about nuclear physics. Maybe this sense of unease comes from the word itself. “Vagina” sounds so severe, like an infectious disease, even an STD, one that can only be handled with thick, clinically sterilized rubber gloves. Or maybe the issue isn’t necessarily vagina anxiety. Maybe we are so dumbfounded by our overly sensationalized interactions where we freely talk about Snooki’s trampages on the Jersey Shore, that we shy away from talking about the power of female sexuality that vaginas embody.

But a revolution is stirring, reclaiming vaginas on campus. Yeah, you guessed it:
The Vagina Monologues.

Behind the Scenes of The Vagina Monologues

As a performer in The Monologues, I was apprehensive before our first meeting, not knowing what to expect from rehearsals or from the performance itself. I discovered that the personal development of self-awareness within each performer is as important as the impact The Monologues will have on the audience during the performance. When we gathered for the first time, the cast broke the ice by sitting in a big circle that consisted of 60 women while each of us answered the question, “If your vagina could talk, what would it say?”

After having considered this question deeply, our rehearsals have become more involved explorations of our own sexuality; we question ourselves and each other, wondering who we are and what our vaginas mean to us. We challenge the patriarchal constructions that say we must shave the hair “down there,” that we must submit to the male definitions of our sexuality, that we must accept the sexual and psychological deprecation of ourselves and our sisters. We deconstruct the notion of violence and violence against women. During rehearsals, we not only practice our lines, but we also begin a dialogue, a dialogue that cannot be silenced because our world cannot afford to ignore it.

Why Guys Should Watch The Vagina Monologues

Naturally, women go to The Vagina Monologues and are inspired because the conversation directly pertains to them, but the male demographic, not surprisingly, has always been more reluctant. Truthfully, if our powerful enactment of a new femininity is to make any changes in reality, it is essential that just as many men are present at the performance as women. As the Director of The Vagina Monologues, Aviva Lillian ‘10, said in our interview, “Guys need to get more comfortable with girls talking about their private parts.” Though The Monologues support and are supported by sexuality from multiple perspectives, including the relationships between gay, lesbian, transgendered individuals, men are integral in encouraging women in their exploration of sexuality in heterosexual relationships.

Aviva continues, “If girls are trying to take more ownership over their sexuality, they need to feel like their new version of treating their sexuality is not threatening or offensive. So it’s really important for guys to understand and even encourage women to be vocal.”

One awesome side effect of this process of reclaiming female sexuality is that more lines of communication will open, and sex will just be better for both men and women. Aviva reiterates this point, “It’s important for men to understand that they shouldn’t take their sexual cues from porn. Porn is often made without a realistic interpretation of a woman’s self-awareness. I think that sexual culture will be healthier if guys are encouraging and appreciative and expect women to be communicative about their sexuality.”

However, communicating about sex is not the only important issue. The mission of The Vagina Monologues is to raise consciousness and money in an effort to end violence against women. Since both men and women are perpetrators and victims of violence, both men and women are equally important in ending it. As Aviva said, “Guys are instrumental in this fight. We need them on our side. This can’t be a man-hating war. That will not work!”

The Value of the Experience of The Vagina Monologues

The Vagina Monologues are not just monologues that constitute a play. It is an experience in which you, as a cast member or as an audience member, are engaged. It is a conversation between the cast and audience about female sexuality, but it is also a conversation between the cast, audience, and victims of sexual abuse about violence against women.

Aviva calls The Monologues an “awakening.” She envisions this awakening as a truly interactive experience in which the audience experiences “enlightenment as the actresses themselves experience powerful feelings by being able to transmit the messages [of the victims of violence]. Hopefully both the audience and the cast leave the show feeling like they’re breaking new ground, like they’re pioneering, like they’re breaking down taboos about violence against women and female sexuality.”

Cast members have also referred to The Monologues as an experience, one that is both educational and liberating. Cast member Bernadette Reyes ’10 recounts her experience, “I did it last year… The experience overall was just really liberating. I can definitely see the change from when I did it then to when I did it now. I’d never talked about my vagina before. I never really desired to talk about it. I hated the word vagina; I thought it was a little gross. It’s a genuine, liberating experience. And so now I’m doing “Cunt” [a Vagina Monologue], and I can’t even describe how excited I am. There’s something incredibly empowering about that, and being able to do that, and being around other women who are doing that.”

Another cast member, Ana Bowens ‘12, stresses the impact The Monologues will have on our campus, saying, “I think that The Vagina Monologues are going to be a force on campus that is unprecedented because it such a group of strong powerful women who are all determined to make people listen, and so everyone on campus should come see The Vagina Monologues not because you have a vagina, but because everyone should learn… about the power of the vagina and what a powerful force it can be.”

Once again, angry people are challenging the constitutionality of the federal “Hate Crimes Act.” This time it’s three Michigan ministers and the Michigan chapter president of the American Family Association who allege that the act threatens their right of free speech and religion—essentially, their right to viciously condemn homosexuality.

According to the lawsuit, the plaintiffs “have a deeply held religious belief that the Bible is the unalterable and divinely inspired Word of God.” So, the only reason they’re preaching hate is because the Bible, the “ultimate authority,” says so.
But there’s a catch: you can’t pick and choose where the Bible has authority. By stating that the Bible is the “ultimate authority for both belief and behavior,” these ministers assert that they live their lives in accordance with this claim. However, these men do not live what they preach; they do not obey all explicit rules commanded in the Bible.

Logically, it is possible to use the laws of Leviticus, which condone the killing of homosexuals, to justify anti-gay bigotry. Leviticus 20:13 clearly states: “If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them.”

But what else does the Bible tell us to do? Don’t touch a woman on her period: “When a woman has a discharge of blood which is her regular discharge from her body, she shall be in her impurity for seven days, and whoever touches her shall be unclean until the evening” (Leviticus 15: 19). Grow yourself a Beard: “Ye shall not round the corners of your heads” (Leviticus 19:27). Stone all psychics, wizards, and the like to death: “A man also or woman that hath a familiar spirit, or that is a wizard, shall surely be put to death: they shall stone them with stones: their blood shall be upon them” (Leviticus 20:27). Kill all adulterers: “‘If a man commits adultery with another man’s wife, both the adulterer and the adulteress must be put to death” (Leviticus 20:10)… And so on.

Obviously, these three anti-gay pastors and Michigan AFA president do not unequivocally follow literal biblical rules, or we’d see them with foot long beards and multiple arrests for stoning adulterers. Therefore, these men cannot claim that “the Bible is the ultimate authority for [their] beliefs and behavior,” because like other religious practitioners, they pick and choose holy verses to suit their own moral purposes.

The three pastors and Michigan chapter president of AFA allege that the sole reason for their bigotry against homosexuals is their faith in the authority of Bible verses. They would like for us to believe that their deeply held religious convictions are the ultimate cause for their antipathy towards gays, which would absolve themselves of all responsibility. But quoting the Bible does not excuse them of the public ministry of hate.

Let’s not forget that many Christians choose to live their lives according to the biblical verses of love, such as: “With justice you shall judge your neighbor” (Leviticus 19:15) and “You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18). These commands are as authoritative and distinct as those found anywhere else in the Bible, and contrast explicitly with homosexual intolerance stated in other parts of the book.

It is important to realize that people use different biblical passages to justify a multitude of actions, precisely because the passages cover such a wide range of interests. Deeply held religious convictions are used only to explain and justify human actions, whether they are actions of love, or denouncements of hate.

If I choose to hate, it’s not hard to cherry-pick Leviticus 20:13 as my defense. Conversely, if I want to love, it is just as easy to cite Leviticus 19:18. Therefore, we find that religious convictions are not the cause of human love or hate, but rather the results of human agency and will. The choice originates not from an abstracted external source, but rather from within each individual. Anti-gay bigots will do well to remember this distinction.

Just as one chooses to not stone witches, disobedient children, and atheists to death, one also chooses to either love his neighbor or condemn him. If you decide to condemn homosexuals, you cannot simply cite the Bible as the originating authority for your beliefs. After all, it’s not the “ultimate authority” of the Bible that influences homosexual intolerance, but the perverse appeal of hate itself.

White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel called a bunch of liberal activists “retarded” for running ads against Democrats who opposed progressive aspects of healthcare, and the Wall Street Journal of all places, spilled the beans. Now Sarah Palin is upset because her son has Down Syndrome and she wants Rahm Emanuel fired—just this once, I agree with her.

Not because “retarded” disparages mentally handicapped people—he wasn’t talking about mentally handicapped people—rather he should lose his job because he’s an idiot for alienating his own political base.

What Emanuel probably meant to say is that it isn’t prudent to upset senators who are needed to pass healthcare reform. While true, the progressive political ads were actually pretty smart. What is not smart, however, is to upset the people who vote for you.

When you do that, you tend to lose office. That’s what Rahm Emanuel seems to not understand. He’s fixated on moving pieces around in the Senate. His thought process must be: “How can I get Senator X to do Y when he is beholden to Special Interests A, B, C, D, E…etc.?” Great. But politicians are ultimately beholden to the people who vote, or would vote for them. Piss off the people, they don’t vote for you, and you lose office.

Within the Democratic Party itself, “liberals” outnumber “centrists” by a wide margin. “Liberals” also tend to vote more heavily in primaries. So if a Democratic senator seriously upsets the “liberals” that’s a problem.

Liberals can mobilize against the aforementioned senator, and knock him out in the primary. And what is the only real goal of any good politician? To stay in power. The threat of losing power will have a greater impact on a senator than any sort of cajoling would. Senators do what lobbyists tell them to because lobbyists give them money that they need to win elections.

If liberals can present a bigger threat than a lack of campaign donations, then senators will tow the liberal line rather than the lobbyist line.

So why are the liberals “retarded?” The liberals want their agenda items to pass. By mobilizing their base they can easily unseat whatever Democratic legislator they want.

Why shouldn’t they run ads scaring the hell out “centrist” democrats, so as to encourage them to tow the liberal line? That’s the line they want. Would centrists otherwise do what the liberals want them to? Of course not—that’s why liberals are upset in the first place. Centrists are not liberal enough for the people who vote for them. Rahm Emanuel is playing stupid politics.

The “people” vote in elections. They may be susceptible to advertisements, paid for by lobbyists—but they aren’t lemmings. You ignore their concerns and interests and they destroy you. That is the way it works in a democracy.

Does Rahm Emanuel get that? Does he think that by “pandering” to the “liberal base” he’ll lose the “moderates”? The moderates also wanted a public health insurance option and who was he pandering to then? The crazy minority who didn’t want the public health insurance option? No. He’s pandering to craven, self-interested senators who would fold in a second if they thought they’d lose power by rejecting their base.

People who could fire Rahm should be asking themselves: why do people hate the healthcare bill now? Why did more than 60% of Americans support a public health insurance option and only 30% or so support the present bill? Could it be that Americans don’t like corrupt, back handed deals with craven special interests without any visible, overt benefit to themselves? No! No!

Actually, yes. Yes! Yes! That’s the reason. The bill now exudes sleaze and most Americans don’t like that. Americans want their government to do something for them, or not do anything at all. It’s either, “a bill that helps me and seems on the level,” or, “no deal.” And in this instance, the people have chosen the latter option.

People who could fire Rahm should also be asking themselves: why, in a New York-CBS Poll yesterday did only 8% of Americans want their congressperson re-elected. Why did 79% of Americans think special interests controlled the United States Congress? Because of people like Rahm Emanuel, who work within a broken, corrupt system, but have no intention of fixing it.

Does President Obama want to be perceived the same way the Congress is perceived? Does he want an 8% approval rating?

What Rahm says is, “Great, let them hate me, let me be the bad guy, they still love the president after all.”

Assuming, anyway, that they still do love him. But even if they do, it may be because they still feel the President has their best intentions in mind. What happens in a year, when he still hasn’t done what they want him to do—when he’s still beholden to special interests and when he still seems too weak to do most things he promised to do? What happens then? Will people still love him? Will people go out and vote for him in droves?

The Obama Administration should get the message: Get rid of Rahm Emanuel.

Yesterday. Not today. Not tomorrow.

Yesterday.

Replace him with some guy like Howard Dean.

Howard Dean won an enormous number of seats in 2006 as head of the DNC. They should get rid of Geithner too while they’re at it. He’s not evil but he is stupid (despite his education).

The economy did collapse under his watch. Why employ a stupid person when you can hire a smart guy like Joe Stiglitz? Not to mention people hate Geithner as much as (if not more than) they hate Rahm.

Congress, the Beltway, has lost touch with reality, and although Rahm Emanuel may be in touch with the Beltway, that won’t do his party a whole lot of good when election time comes. Did President Obama ever want to stick up to the special interests? Did he think he could both be a conciliator and an agent of change?

I can see how one might say: “Look, Rahm is evil, but he’s a necessary evil,” but Democrats are already losing seats on Rahm Emanuel’s watch, and the primary hasn’t even happened yet. Why does Obama keep him? Does Obama like him? Does Obama want lobbyist money for the next president election? Remember who raised his money the first time around? Individual donors—people who are pissed off at Rahm Emanuel-tactics and will be less inclined to give next time unless they change.

Rahm needs to go. It’s not only good politics. It’s just smart.

THE MASTHEAD
Editor-in-Chief: James H. Wang
Publisher: Amy Gu
Executive Editor: Amanda R. McNally
Managing Editor: Paul Lintilhac

Dartmouth still has a long way to go to become accessible to students with disabilities.

Dartmouth has been good to me. Sure, I have my gripes about dining plans going up by $200 almost every year—and the likely introduction of the Super-Size Mega Ultimate Green Plan. I have my gripes about the gummed up Blitz terminal keyboards in FoCo. It also annoys me how the registrar here requires that underclassmen stand in line in the chilly early morning to sign up for the classes of their choice. But, overall, these are minor qualms in the grand scheme of things.

As said, Dartmouth has been good to me. But then again, I don’t have to get around in a wheelchair.

I transferred here from the University of California, Berkeley, which, for all its faults, took the cause of accessibility to what I thought at the time was an overhyped extreme. It probably had something to do with the strict California regulations stacked on top of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), and the number of students with physical and learning disabilities on campus.

It was common for me to see people going around in wheelchairs—there were even a few students with a form of dwarfism that were permanently confined to a mechanized wheelchair-bed. Although they were unable to manipulate any objects with their small hands other than the joystick for their wheelchair, they were still able to get around just fine with keycards that automatically opened doors, and the copious numbers of ADA-compliant ramps stretching every which way from every University-affiliated building.

And Berkeley didn’t just accommodate physical disabilities. It was a relatively common sight to see students in the front of class with computers that transcribed the lecture into written words almost in real time. I though of it as a technological marvel until I found out it was actually a service the University paid for where typists in India real-time transcribed the lecture.

I suppose it wasn’t as difficult considering how many of the lectures were done through a speaker-system to thousand-student auditoriums, and subsequently piped to iTunes University to be posted online with full video. They didn’t need any new equipment to send off that audio stream across the world. Oh, and we also had a note-taking service that charged nominal amounts for full class notes of each lecture. By now, Dartmouth readers are probably in awe of the rich class skipping opportunities offered at Berkeley.

To be honest, for most of my career at Berkeley, I felt the same way. It was a great tool for slackers that didn’t want to walk through the clear California weather to get to class. It was probably expensive, only enriching the lives of lazy people. God, what a useless and inefficient system. And while I understood the physical accessibility accommodations better, did these students really need TWO ramps going to every high-rise in the new dorm complexes? Bah, Berkeley bureaucracy.

It’s perhaps one of the great ironies of my academic career that I never really had that much sympathy for students with disabilities while at Berkeley, one of the most accessibility conscious and “liberal” (though it isn’t really) schools in the United States. Or, maybe it isn’t. While at Berkeley, it seemed that students with physical or mental disabilities could go about their lives—not as easily as the rest of us, but acceptably nonetheless.

Dartmouth is different. I couldn’t quite place what felt so odd about the physical landscape here, compared to Berkeley. Unlike many, I didn’t have any drop-dead, “This is gorgeous,” reaction. Maybe it was the fact that the grass was somewhat yellowed, and the school felt too SMALL for the 32,000 students I was used to. But nonetheless, images of strident, athletic people bounding up the stairs and running around campus came into my mind. I figured it was mainly because I knew about Dartmouth’s sports prowess compared to most of the Ivies (it still didn’t prepare me for the vast disappointment of going from Cal to Dartmouth football).

That was probably part of it as well, but now, I feel it was also because of something else. Berkeley often felt chaotically styled and garish with its many ramps, blinking keycard sensors, and automated doors scattered everywhere. Dartmouth felt older, with an elevated sensibility. A flight of stairs in front of every building and no ramps or elevators in sight. It was an immediate feeling of difference in who would—or could—come here. I can’t imagine the girl with dwarfism that I said hi to every day coming and going from class in this landscape.

The physical inaccessibility of the campus is reflected into the “invisible” space, with its unfriendliness towards learning disabilities. I’m sure most of us have had classes where professors noted in their syllabi that students with “invisible” disabilities could speak with the professor. But in many cases, even if a student does go to a professor with such concerns, he or she risks being laughed at or looked at with skeptical eyes. The mandated accommodation is also sometimes lost in the fragmented faculty and administration relationship.

To be fair, it isn’t malice that drives this behavior. I spoke with an alum this past Winter Carnival whose feelings about learning disabilities encapsulated perfectly what many professors think—rich, privileged kids at Dartmouth just pay to be tested and diagnosed with these disabilities to get extra time on tests. It lets students be lazy—a view very similar to one that I used to hold.

One that I used to hold, at least, before someone very close to me found out that she likely had dyslexia. I watched her struggle through the administrative offices looking for accommodation, from Ward Newmeyer (the head of Student Accessibility Services), to her dean, to the SAS secretary, to Dick’s House, back to Ward… and so on and so forth. I was privy to the “deal with it yourself” attitude the College had towards testing and treatment. She struggled to figuring out insurance costs and had to find a way to avoid paying thousands of dollars since she didn’t have Dartmouth insurance. Yes, thousands of dollars. And the entire administrative framework, the one that we pay so much to support, gave her little more than a wave towards a general direction.

Since then, I’ve met a surprisingly large number of other students with similar issues. And many others that have “symptoms”—though they don’t see it that way—of at least mild cases of such disorders. I don’t think that people should be coddled in the same way that they are at Berkeley. That is going too far, and it does not prepare students to face the real world. But at the same time, each and every reading assignment shouldn’t be a personal trek to hell for these students.

Nor should moving about the campus, getting food, or just making it into classes.
At Dartmouth, the lack of sympathy for students with disabilities is only topped by the lack of understanding. I should know. I never understood, even when disadvantaged students surrounded me. I have two perfectly good legs, am relatively athletic, and probably read faster than average. It isn’t to brag about it,
it’s to give perspective. My position is similar to those of many students. And probably of most professors as well. We can’t understand what it is like to try to just pick up food from FoCo, which is not exactly designed for wheelchair-bound students in mind. Nor can we understand a routine reading assignment being a multi-night marathon of painful and largely unremembered text. Because we don’t understand, we can’t sympathize. Because we don’t see, we never care to know.

It’s why groups such as the newly founded ABLE are so important. But it’s only a first step. Action must follow awareness—but right now, we aren’t even aware yet. It’ll be a long time before I can see that girl I knew at Berkeley ever even wanting, or ever able, to be here.

A discarded can of our College’s favorite drink. Photo by Quinn Anya. http://www.flickr.com/photos/53326337@N00/3262302956

If ever there were a case for pun making, the events of last week made it pretty convincingly. It was a Frat-zaster. The affront, the outrage, the carefully meted dialogue, mediation and reconciliation (whew, Winter Carnival, unhindered and affirmed)—there was a hint of twisted wonder in it, laying-bare of our values. If only the infamous Giaccone had been a sterner villain! A small spectacle would have become frenzied mobilization, an us-versus-them crusade of the first order.

Maybe that was the odd crux of it all, though. The fire burned out before it really got started, our forces too strong and our enemy a paper tiger. Pick any terrible array of metaphors you like, save, maybe, ones involving Phi Delt. They all fit.

Vagaries aside, last week was understandably and necessarily absurd, as though the story now needs retelling. First, Hanover Police chose an inexplicably irrational new policy towards drinking, introducing it at an inexplicably irrational time.
Second, students responded with indignant force to what seemed a strike at the heart of Dartmouth’s social world. And third, said students won, beating back discussion so quickly that it was reduced, by a Feb. 11th article in the D, to mealy-mouthed abstractions about future “transformation” and “harm reduction.”

Convincing, right? It may have been a hard battle, but hard, we can guess, in deed only. Barring some game-changing detail, the war for the frats was won well before the issue had even settled into campus consciousness. There was no “other side” to it, just a hapless police chief drowning in the horrified criticism of students, administrators, and alumni alike. Had this not happened, would Winter Carnival have been any more dangerous? The worst Pollyanna would struggle to say yes.

Whatever drove the Hanover police’s decision to craft such a strange new policy, we can guess, will yet be a fascinating story. Provided the tale isn’t ultimately monotonous, bureaucratic boilerplate (by now, we’ve heard the rumors about a threatened HPo looking to reassert itself in the face of budget cuts), there’s riveting detail yet to be uncovered here. Someone, somewhee—for some reason—must have thought that a decision to cripple the frats, one week pre-Winter Carnival, would be politically sustainable and therefore worthwhile. Whatever change in thought this marks, provided it wasn’t undertaken by a hopeless fool (which is unlikely, given Giaccone’s long tenure and President Kim’s institutional shrewdness), it will likely speak to some paradigm shift in institutional thinking that has yet to come to light.

But that’s a story for another, hopefully brighter, day. Instead, what stood out about last week’s outrage were two things, each reinforcing the other. The first: that HPo’s new policy, upon retreat, seemed to leave no meaningful imprint on campus alcohol policy, minus obligatory, conciliatory pleasantries. The second: that this change was deferred not only by the immediate strength of fraternities and sororities, but also by the unquestioned, leveling sway of their institutional logic. There is, in a crisis-unified Dartmouth imagination, no alternative to our social system as it now exists. More than anything else about this place or this school, it constitutes our identity, an identity that subjects itself neither to internal criticism nor serious debate when threatened.

This is the delicate point, it seems, that every implicit or explicit challenge to our frat system reaches, and where every attempt at genuine change falters. Assuming that the system needs to be changed (a big assumption, sure, but one deeply felt by many people), criticizing it alienates all too many students whose relationship to our campus mean very little outside of house affiliation. Sure, this monolith of Dartmouth life frustrates the unaffiliated, perhaps rightfully so, but that fact has so far proven counterproductive as a call to change on its own terms. Systemic overhaul will depend on consensus, a consensus that can’t be built when a majority as passionate as ours feels threatened. The implementation of any alternative to the fraternity system, whether that means its overhaul or its phasing into irrelevance, will depend on persuasion. Where that persuasion will come from, though, has yet to be seen.

So that’s the impasse we all reach when change, whether incremental (a la the Student Life Initiative) or severe (last week’s debacle), is hinted at. The Greek system’s acid logic persists, referring again and again to its inclusiveness, and its all-pervasiveness, as incorrigible and unquestionable defenses. Even whispers of reform threaten too many people—too many, too intimately involved. And this is what will doom our Greek system in the long term. As Matt Ritger pointed out so sagely earlier this year, our frats have long had a death sentence stamped squarely on their foreheads.

Sooner or later, they’re going to kill someone, or almost kill someone, or push the envelope just a bit too far just a few too many times. And when it happens, critics will ask, again, the questions that have been long been dismissed or cynically accommodated: Where are the alternatives? Where is the system’s progressive future? Why is the joyfully communal heart of this school, really, so inseparable from its drinking? The answers to these questions have long been just convincing enough, just evasive enough to maintain the status quo.

But where time continues to move forward, and while things on Webster Ave. remain the same, they won’t always be. Sure, Hanover Police made a stupid decision last week, but its defeat added one to what may yet be remembered, by what’s left of the Greeks, as a history of pyrrhic victories. Until then, hold on to your composites.

American TV news is famously factious. In this country we have preserved the individual’s right to trust any, all or none of the many domestic, “serious” TV news channels like Fox, MSNBC, and CNN, among others. This gaggle of non-government-funded news reporting affirms, to a degree, our Americanness often at the cost of accuracy and of candid, level-headed discussion of world events.
Having backed away from the forefront of international news reporting, today’s America has no unbiased, singularly multi-voiced channel for world news, and we are left then to listen around for one. Seek and ye shall find…

Cue the Al Jazeera news channel, which emerged in Qatar a year after a successful generational coup in 1995.  Al Jazeera first descended from BBC’s Saudi station, which was dropped when the Saudis attempted to censor the news. It was then picked up as the first ever 24-hour Arabic news channel by the recently self-appointed Emir of Qatar.

The BBC’s influence is clearly apparent in the tone and aesthetic of Al Jazeera’s shows and website. It is bold and objective—much of the time an Al Jazeera report will opine in one direction and rapidly follow up with a dissenting report from a fresh, foreign perspective. This honest and objective presentation of world events, commonly called “contextual objectivity,” has so far earned the network international acclaim and made Al Jazreera English, its newest network, America’s best new chance at a grown-up domestic media scene.

Al Jazeera is not without some bias. While devoted to “contextual objectivity,” it is unafraid to take a clear stance on a regionally significant issues. When Al Jazeera Lebanon warmly welcomed home (from prison) anti-Israeli terrorist Samir Kuntar in July 2008, the network was forced to admit to having violated its own ethics. The station responsible for airing the story threw a party in honor of his release, part of a 2008 Isreal-Hezbollah prisoner exchange. Israel took the station’s behavior personally, promising to boycott Al Jazeera, a move which later prompted a formal apology from Al Jazeera’s general director. It was not until last spring that the Israeli government sanctioned Al Jazeera—but the sanctions were temporary, a response to Qatar’s having shut down its Israeli trade office (itself a move made in response to Israeli actions in the Gaza Strip).

According to a March 2009 article in the Israeli newspaper Haaretz, this Qatari-Israeli conflict climaxed in a summit after which Hamad bin Jassim, the Qatari foreign minister, declared that the two nations, “which had formerly enjoyed a working relationship,” would “be cutting ties.” Tensions with Israel, stemming largely from Jazeera’s coverage of Gaza, also contributed to enduring American mistrust of Al Jazeera English, a newer network contingent founded in 2006. Now, Al Jazeera is poised to change the world of news media.

Contrary to the American-Israeli perception, the Al Jazeera network is not anti-Semitic. The news itself, the unaltered truth of what’s going on, cannot discriminate even if it wants to. Only a tilted presentation may steer facts into anti-Semitic territory. And such a tilt, remarkably, has no place in the game with Al Jazeera English, which recently made its way to Canadian cable thanks largely to the exuberant efforts of former Canadian Broadcasting Company executive Tony Burman. Canadian Jewish media leaders are reportedly planning to protest AJE’s introduction, in expectation of its perceived anti-Semiticism. As Frank Dimant, executive vice president of B’nai Brith Canada, has argued, “the introduction of an English-language Al Jazeera into Canadian homes can only provide yet another outlet for vicious anti-Israel propaganda.” Yet North Americans should welcome this kind of controversy. It is exactly because of Al Jazeera’s devotedly unbiased presentation of world news—both sides of Gaza, for example—that this network is so controversial. The most boat-rocking opinions are hoisted to the forefront of the network’s programming, where they belong.

Take Al Jazeera’s coverage of Iran, for example. A recent online headline, referring to Secretary Clinton’s call on Iran to reconsider its nuclear programming, had three video links below: one an Al Jazeera interview with John Kerry; another, the Iranian view of a nuclear standoff with Mashaie arguing that “there is nothing illegal about 20% enrichment;” and another, an explanation of Iranian political gridlock since the 31-year-old revolution. Al Jazeera’s thorough reporting style offers many views of an issue, each set prominently and credibly against the others. Al Jazeera has the journalistic gumption, the influence, and the reputation for fairness to put together such a story.

  But the U.S. has a complicated relationship with the network. Before 2001, America’s stance on the already burgeoning Al Jazeera was that of a disinterested older brother, proud of its perceptible progress but unconcerned with its potential. Then the Osama tapes made a splash: after September 11, Al Jazeera released videos of Osama bin Laden and Sulaiman Abu Ghaith, pleased with themselves, celebrating and defending the attacks they had orchestrated.  The American government accused Al Jazeera of propagating terror, but when the network responded that its only intention was to make known as much true information as possible, many American news stations nationally rebroadcast the tapes.

Still, in October of 2001, Colin Powell—who particularly disapproved of Al Jazeera—recommended that the Emir of Qatar disband the station entirely. Tension grew when an American missile destroyed Al Jazeera’s Kabul headquarters in November of 2001. One of the network’s cameramen was detained, uncharged, at Guantanamo Bay for more than six years, during which time he was asked repeatedly whether Al Jazeera was a front for al-Qaeda. Most recently, a 2008 US election broadcast on Al Jazeera English, including an interview with a Sarah Palin supporter who claimed that Obama “regards white people as trash,” blew up on YouTube. And again, Colin Powell accused Al Jazeera as being anti-American, arguing at the time that “those kinds of images going out on Al Jazeera are killing us.” He apparently does not understand the idea of contextual objectivity.

Truly democratic reporting is distasteful to the United States—for decades, it has deemed itself the premier promoter of democracy unto the lesser world.  We are slow to change here in the U.S., and it is no surprise that Canada would pick up Al Jazeera English before us. But the network’s popularity has escalated as of late. Eventually, we can guess, it will make its way into American homes. Although many Americans still think of Al Jazeera as “Terror TV,” there’s hope for progress—so listen up. Al Jazeera has reached our shores despite years’ resistance, and it is a-knockin’ on the front door. Al Jazeera English is waiting, with all the characteristic persistence of the truth, to be received into America’s living rooms.

Diversity has been coming up a lot lately. The First Year Forum held a talk on race at Dartmouth recently. A week ago Beta had a student panel called “Branded” on the stereotypes that limit the Dartmouth experience, and my floor had a meeting about floor diversity. And of course, it’s Black History month. It seems like the discussion of diversity is everywhere and everyone has a unique opinion. But just what is diversity, and when have we achieved it?

The celebration of diversity is hailed as an emblem of progress in the realm of race relations. But when looked at closely, it’s not very progressive, or at least it’s not the most progressive option.

Diversity today sometimes boils down to pointing out that there is a white, black, and person of Asian descent in a room without bloodshed, so yeah us! However, while pointing out diversity points out that race relations have taken a turn for the better, it only continues to draw attention to race instead of transcending it. Real diversity, which exists in the hearts of the people, does not need to be noted—it simply exists.

In A Paler Shade of White, Eric Arnesen writes that “the very solidarity of language, of clear cut and well-understood categories and definitions of who was black and who was white, has given way to the widely accepted notion that race is not a biological category or a trans-historically fixed phenomenon, but is itself, socially constructed.”

Now if this is true, which I believe it is, then pointing out diversity of race is also a construct. It is excitement over a particular point in history where race is no longer taken as a natural indication to certain proclivities, and people of different races can exist in peace and harmony, but the troublesome notion of race still exists.

This age of diversity is not the end-all of racial history, but simply a happier period of it. Now we should focus on progress and trying to move beyond this period of celebrated diversity. The fact that diversity is held up as the ideal that institutions must be pushed to attain reveals that diversity does not address the real root of the problem: continuing to use race as a social category.

Also, the fact that diversity is applauded and pointed out shows that we are still far from diversity being the norm. Diversity is all well and good, but it is annoying to draw attention to it with such glee as if we’re being exceptionally good for exhibiting it. This means that diversity is not yet accepted as a common good.

Morgan Freeman’s views on Black History Month correlate to this celebratory stance on diversity. In a 60 Minutes interview in 2005, he said, “You’re going to relegate my history to a month? I don’t want a black history month. Black history is American history.” As Freeman rightly points out there is no “white history month,” for it is commemorated all year long. Freeman goes on to say to the interviewer, “I am going to stop calling you a white man, and I’m going to ask you to stop calling me a black man,” because the labels of “white” and “black” merely bring attention to and reinforce race (or racism). Pointing out race or diversity of race does not do anything to de-construct the divides of race.

I’m not advocating silence on race or the cessation of the social and academic dialogue on race; we still need these things for progress. But we should understand that a diversity of labels is not true diversity. We should understand that it is possible to move towards being a society that doesn’t need to draw attention to race, a society that doesn’t need to feel good about diversity, because lack of diversity is no longer a problem.

Close your eyes and picture Afghanistan; the one that the media has been obligated to describe to us for the past eight years as we bombed the nation. It’s unbearably hot, of course, like any other Middle Eastern country. Minarets are visible on every horizon. Everyone is Muslim and Arab. What other ethnicity is there in the Islamic world anyways?

The men casually wear guns strapped to their backs, using them occasionally to demonstrate their support for the Taliban. Women are nowhere to be seen—they only sit around at home, bored and uneducated in their black burqas. And children? Do they even exist in this glee-barren land?

Though it may not be its primary purpose, Afghan Starr certainly debunks the Afghan media myth in this American-Idol-style documentary. Filmed in late fall and winter, snow blankets the streets of Kabul. The attention is on the majority—60 percent—of Afghan population under twenty-one years of age. These youth, outfitted in trendy G Star Raw puffers and embellished jeans, spend their time shooting pool, clowning each other, chilling and listening to music.

Afghan Star stresses that music and singing remain popular in Afghan culture, as they always have been. Assuming that the Taliban and Mujahadeen crushed Afghanistan’s love for music is akin to believing that religion died in the Soviet Union or that Americans don’t do drugs. Appreciation for music and talented singers is what makes the pop idol television show Afghan Star so successful. The process is analogous to American Idol: 2000 people audition around the country, the judges cringe when most open their mouths, and a handful get the golden ticket to Afghanistan’s Hollywood, Kabul.

The documentary follows the story of four young Afghans in particular as they all vie for the $1,000 prize. The two male contestants are Rafi, a 19-year-old from Mazar e Sharif, and Hameed, a 19-year-old from Kunduz. The film focuses differently on the lives of the two female contestants: Lima, a 25-year-old from Khandahar, and Setara, a 21-year-old from Herat.

The sensationalized advertisement for Afghan Star reads: “In Afghanistan, you risk your life to sing…”

Then you watch the movie, and realize that it is really only Setara, who dances and allows her headscarf to slip from her head, that is threatened.

Men interviewed in the street felt she should be killed for this behavior, and even her fellow contestants on Afghan Star thought she had crossed the line. Of course this is upsetting, and no one’s life should be threatened for dancing (or anything, for that matter). But was this really the point of Afghan Star? Was the fact that Afghans cannot dance in public what we should take away?

A Sundance Channel interview with host of Afghan Star Daoud Seddiqi and Director Havana Marking exemplifies this mistaken point. The interviewer asked what Seddiqi’s goal was with the show. He replied, “You know, at first we need peace. I want to bring peace to my country with my show, with my work, with my everything. I hope my people, after that, don’t think about war and weapons; after that, they choose a good life, and music…” The interviewer cut in, asking, “And maybe a little dancing. Just a little bit?”

What a juxtaposition of priorities. The Afghan singer wants peace for his country, while the American interviewer wants to see Afghans dance in public. Is this what we derive from a presupposed stereotype of Afghanistan? Does that lessen our guilt and justify the U.S. invasion? Does Setara need the U.S. military to save her because she cannot dance on public television?

Perhaps it is this obsession with saving the women of Afghanistan that caused Lima and Setara to become the focus for most viewers and reviewers. Afghan Star gives us a chance to move beyond criticizing the gender dynamics of Afghanistan, enabling us to de-exotify the country and better understand their culture.

The video, “A Young Girl’s Life,” by Rachel Simmons plays out like a real-life Mean Girls. However, unlike the hit 2004 movie featuring Lindsay Lohan, Simmons’ film explores the real life experiences of high school and middle school girls dealing with bullying that make having a “Burn Book” look like good, clean innocent fun.

The film explores bullying which has reached new levels with the advent of technology. Some of the accounts are utterly horrifying. One segment details the story of Libby who at fourteen years old, suffered from cyber-bullying. This method of bullying—which occurs via the internet or text message—is becoming more prevalent. After being friends with a certain group of “popular” girls for many years, Libby’s best friend turned on her and started sending her text messages that read: “You’re a bitch and you’re a slut and you don’t get that…. get some fucking balls and take a look in the mirror.” These texts continued for months.

One read: “fuck you skanky ass bitch, go stuff your bra and go throw up and apply your pro active, not like any of that helps you though. You’re still the ugliest hoe I know and you are a bitch about it too. F you. Get over yourself and your lack of a life xoxo.” Despite the frequency and cruelty of texts like these, Simmons explains that only five percent seek the help of an adult in these bullying situations.
However, bullying is not only verbal—physical fighting between girls is another type of bullying that teenage girls participate in daily.

Carla, a sixteen year old who grew up in a rough part of Boston, is the leader of a “crew”, a quasi-gang that consists of a group of friends. The groups’ interactions with other girls and other crews often escalate to a situation that sometimes spiral out of control. Fighting is their “problem solver” and a regular way of life for Carla and her closest friends—the goal is to be tough.

When most of the time fights, no one calls the police—a common cultural belief is that fights between girls are not as violent as those between boys. Because society views girls as docile creatures unaccustomed to physical violence, their fighting is often ignored. But even after the physical level of fighting, the bullying persists via text messages and the Internet.

Carla even explains that she never knew why she hated certain girls. It was not until a mentor started to work with Carla that she realized that it’s “not cute” to beat other girls as a way to resolves issues.

The documentary also deals with self-acceptance. Simmons met with a group of youngsters who are a part of “Take a Second Look”, a group whose aim is to address the struggles young girls face and how the media influences their self-image. In a segment, Simmons had the members view the music video, “When I Grow Up,” by the Pussycats Dolls and then asked the girls, “What did you think of that video? What is the message?”

The responses were mostly positive—many explained that they liked the video, and it made them want to be famous and appear as the women on screen.

The video does show off the female physique but is extremely tame compared to most music videos. The message encourages young girls to have sexy and flawless (i.e. unrealistic) bodies. Unsurprisingly, the girls expressed bafflement at why they looked different from the bodies featured on screen. When it comes to body image, there is always an emphasis on what needs to be changed or adjusted to fit the unrealistic mold of perfection that the media perpetuates.

Ana Lu, a young girl interviewed, is constantly confronted with the fact that society rejects people of her size. For example, when she went to buy a dress for her Quinceañera, she spent hours trying to find dresses that would fit. Ana Lu has ostensibly absorbed the message that she is somehow unfit for this society. She thinks about her weight fifty percent of the time, explaining: “Everything I do revolves around my weight.” Her experience has literally and emotionally been cut down to size, to the point where Ana Lu feels that she loves herself some days, while others days she hates herself.

Whose responsibility is it to help teenagers reject the images thrown at them through music videos and pop culture? Who can encourage young girls to have a positive self-image?

Parents and other mentors play a primary role in teaching young girls that the images in the media and the façade presented to them is an unrealistic, consumer culture ideal. Parents can teach their daughters how to handle the stresses of being a young girl and how to not fall into the trap that the American media so effectively establishes.

Girls need to know that they can have mentors and that there is more to life than bullying and fighting. Carla got out of the fighting scene because of Meva, a mentor, who works for a Boston police center that identifies girls involved in violence before they get in serious trouble. Meva has shown Carla how to be a better person and helped her to realize the risks she faces if she continues fighting.

We need to tell our daughters that they are beautiful and the beauty we speak of comes from the inside. If young girls learn to love themselves first, they will not resort to bullying and fighting.

Sonia, another teenage girl in the video, sums up the challenge young girls face in America and explains what she now knows: “I think that the hardest thing for a girl throughout her whole life is just being able to believe in herself and to never let anybody bring her down, no matter what.” I hope to see more young girls realize this. At the end of her senior year, Sonia said, “the best thing about being a girl is that we can do anything. I feel that nobody can stop us. We are like wonder
woman.” This sense of empowerment can be fostered and sustained through parenting and mentorship.

Every girl can grow up to be a healthy and happy woman, but having someone there to tell a young teen that she is important makes all the difference in the world. Once a young girl gets through middle and high school, she can probably tackle any battle that comes her way, with a supportive role model in her life. Young girls, tomorrow’s women, have endless potential. Just be sure to remind them of the strength they carry inside themselves; they will listen.