Flashback: Pizza party

When I was a freshman in high school, my friend T. and I were invited to a pizza party by a guy whom we barely knew. It seemed like a strange invitation, but I was curious. I asked: Who else will be there? What's it for? What do you guys do? "It's just a bunch of kids our age from my church. We eat pizza, hang out and talk." I had some misgivings because I knew most of the churches in the area were more conservative than I was, but I also didn't want to pre-judge a bunch of people I'd never met. And it sounded casual enough; if it didn't turn out to be our thing, T. and I could just leave.

We went. In addition to seven or eight other kids our age, there was one older guy. (At the time he seemed ancient, but he was probably only in his 30s.) "Get your pizza and come sit down," the older guy said. Little alarm bells went off in my head; already this was less casual than I'd anticipated. But we were here, the pizza was served, and I was dependent on T. for a ride. We each took a slice of pizza and a paper towel as a plate and joined the circle of people sitting on the floor.

A few bites into our slices, the older guy began to sermonize about the evils of homosexuality and the inescapable damnation of homosexuals. T. and I gave each other sideways glances - he'd recently confessed to me he thought he was bisexual - but we felt trapped. We'd taken the free pizza, were in the circle, and getting up now went against all my parents' teachings about what it meant to be a good person and a polite guest. So we stayed until he was done speaking and we were dismissed.

On some level I blamed myself. I knew already that almost nothing in this world is free; if someone you don't know very well offers you pizza, they're bound to have an ulterior motive. On the other hand, the guy who'd invited us hadn't been completely honest, either. I felt like he'd purposefully withheld information from us, which meant we couldn't make an informed decision.

I felt duped. Manipulated. Betrayed.

I had a similar experience last week with a novel I read, which I wrote about on my business blog.

To fluoridate or not to fluoridate? 'Tis not the question

In September, Portland's City Council voted unanimously to fluoridate the city's drinking water, despite the protests of a vocal segment of the population in opposition to fluoridation.

The first I'd heard of the issue at all was a lunchtime conversation, prior to the council's vote, with a co-worker who is strongly opposed to the idea. She said that the fluoride put in drinking water was a toxic by-product of the aluminum manufacturing process, that the companies who make aluminum (and therefore fluoride) had found a clever way to sell their toxic by-product to cities rather than having to deal with safe disposal of hazardous material, and that putting fluoride into the city's water supply for dental health reasons is extremely inefficient, since we use city water for far more than just drinking or cooking. "What do my plants need fluoride for?" she asked rhetorically. Furthermore, she said it will cost $500 billion dollars to get the city set up for water fluoridation, not to mention the cost of annual maintenance. (Note: she may have said fertilizer rather than aluminum; I may be misremembering that part.)

On cake, and eating it

Lately the saying "You can't have your cake and eat it too" has been rolling around in my head. It came up for me, I think, as I have struggled to reconcile being grateful for what I have but also wanting something different or more.

I want to have my house and dog and independence and a job that supports that lifestyle and also meets my needs for meaningful contribution, respect, equality and autonomy. I want a job that more than pays the bills and is personally fulfilling too. Or that at least leaves me with time, energy and money to pursue interests that are personally fulfilling.

Some would accuse me of being ungrateful, spoiled, unrealistic. They'd accuse me of wanting to have my cake and eat it too. My question is this: what's the point in having cake if you can't eat it?

Why should I have to choose between surviving and thriving, between financial security and my emotional and mental well-being? I see others who "have their cake and eat it too": colleagues who like their jobs, who make enough money to support their chosen lifestyles, who are treated with respect at work, who have the autonomy to decide how to do their work and balance the other important aspects of their lives.

In a phone conversation with a friend the other night, she observed that some people feel a sense of pride in not trying to eat the cake. They see virtue in accepting their lots in life and not getting all bent out of shape about what they don't have, even if other people do have it. "That's just the way it is," I imagine them saying. "Life isn't fair. You have to face reality and get on with it."

I can see the appeal in this philosophy, how it can offer relief from a mountain of struggles that seem impossible to win. Life isn't fair: bad things happen to good people, people die young, whole populations are wiped out by natural disaster. But if we accepted this philosophy when it comes to human institutions, there never would have been a civil rights movement. By accepting "that's just the way it is," we accept a position of powerlessness and become complicit in our own oppression. We stop daring to dream, stop asking for what we want, even stop asking ourselves what we want.

I dare to dream that we can create workplaces of partnership and equality. Where we acknowledge limited resources but come to collaborative decisions--all of us together, not just the "managers"--about how those resources are best used to achieve a collective vision. Where each person has the autonomy to decide for themselves how and when to accomplish the tasks they have chosen to take on. Where whole persons are acknowledged and nourished, and we no longer expect work to come first before all else: before self, family and friends. Where we can all have our cake and eat it too.

The dearth of men on What Not to Wear

After watching What Not to Wear obsessively for the better part of a week, I began to reflect once again on the dearth of episodes that feature male style victims. Despite the profusion of poorly dressed men in the U.S., in nine seasons of WNTW I know of only two episodes where men get style make-overs. Why is this?

Well, let's look at Stacy and Clinton's arguments for why their guests should care about what they wear:
1) like it or not, other people judge you based on what you look like, so you might as well take some control over the image you are projecting;
2) dressing well shows self-respect & self-acceptance;
3) looking good feels good: it boosts self-confidence;
4) dressing appropriately shows respect for those around you;
5) it's important to be beautiful for one's romantic partner so s/he feels lucky;
6) it's an important part of being a good role model for the kids.

All these reasons are interrelated, of course. If you portray self-respect and self-acceptance and feel more self-confident, people will perceive you differently and will treat you differently ("differently" read: "better"). If you know you look good, it will be easier to treat yourself with respect and acceptance and to ask others to do the same. And if you feel good and respect and accept yourself, then your kids will pick up on that and will learn self-respect and self-acceptance too.

But isn't it important for men to have self-confidence, self-respect and self-acceptance? To show respect for others? Isn't it important for them to be desirable to their romantic partners? To set a good example for the kids and teach them how to have healthy self-esteem?

Let's assume that the producers did not make a conscious decision to exclude men from WNTW. Let us assume instead that either a) not very many men are nominated for the show; and/or b) men who are nominated choose not to participate. Why then aren't men nominated and/or why do they choose not to participate?

Perhaps men's and women's self-confidence is shaped differently. For several months I dated a gorgeous man who not only had broad shoulders and muscles but also a beautiful face and beautiful skin. If he had supplemented his natural good looks with clothing that flattered him, he would have been entirely irresistible. One day I asked him whether he thought he was handsome, and he said yes. I asked him to describe what made him handsome, and he talked about his strength and his muscles. That was all. Nothing about his skin, hair or eyes. Nothing about the symmetry of his face or his beautiful mouth.

I think of the men I know who would make fun of other men who dress well or groom themselves.

I think of the episode of House where the Aussie doctor was called out for having a manicure and having his eyebrows waxed (neither of which would have raised any suspicion had he been a woman).

I think of the term "metrosexual" to describe a straight man who devotes resources to personal grooming and clothing.

I think of the scene from Fight Club where Edward Norton and Brad Pitt scoff at the image of a beautiful man in an underwear ad, saying "Is that what a real man looks like?" Meanwhile their own faces and bodies show bruises and dried blood from their participation in fighting matches. They prize strength and prowess above physical attractiveness.

I think of the credit card commercial where a fairly unattractive, plainly dressed man is about to buy an engagement ring for his long-legged, red-haired fiancée, who is dressed for the runway.

Or of the fast food commercial where the man comes home to find his well-dressed, well-groomed and very jealous girlfriend waiting for him. Meanwhile he is dressed in work clothes but his hair is slightly mussed, his shirt too big, his facial hair in need of grooming; in short, he is presented in such a way as to minimize his attractiveness.

Resulting hypotheses:
1) Women have a responsibility in life to meet others' need for beauty; the same is not true for men.
2) Men are instead supposed to be strong and capable; if a man attends too much to his appearance, his priorities seem misplaced, and he is perceived as unmanly.
3) There are not more men on WNTW because men do not need to be beautiful--indeed perhaps should not be beautiful--because their responsibility is to provide physical protection and financial security, and that is where their self-respect, self-confidence and role model potential should come from.

I, for one, would be grateful if more men met my need for beauty. If they spent more time, energy and money on personal grooming (especially when there is a uni-brow or copious amounts of back hair involved) and on dressing themselves well. I don't see why men should be exempt from looking good. Because I do think that dressing well shows a modicum of respect for others. It says, "Hey, I care that I am out in public and you have to look at me, so I'm going to make an effort to be worth looking at." European men get it. Why should U.S. men get to go around all slovenly?

But if it is an issue of men in this society not having been taught how to take care of their physical appearance and look good, why then we are back to a role that What Not to Wear could play but is not. I would very much like to see the show devote an entire season to men's make-overs. After over 250 episodes featuring women, it doesn't seem unreasonable to ask for 22 that feature men.