Showing all posts tagged sexism

In Culture, Identity, Nurture, Personal Growth, Relationships, Speaking

Use Your Voice

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Use Your Voice


At one of the teachers’ conferences I spoke at in February, I realized the importance of using my voice. It’s not hard to see how valuable it can be to share ideas and resources in a formal workshop setting. I’m all in for that, but the learning I experienced came during a speaker’s luncheon in a beautiful hotel meeting room.

I had finished all of my sessions for this conference and I felt tired, yet elated. My flight home to Vancouver was leaving in a few hours, the sun was shining in Calgary, and my sessions had been productive and stimulating.

The soup, sandwich, potato chips and brownie on my plate were delicious. I chatted casually with the five other people at my table, all wearing “Speaker” badges. We asked about each other’s sessions. One was a math teacher and another ran a foundation and spoke about their charity.

One man explained that he was female at birth but transitioned to a man in early adulthood and now he spoke on his experience as a trans man to promote kindness and acceptance. I told him that I had new material this year called The Future is Female where we brainstormed ways to create a fairer world outside of patriarchal systems with their focus on domination and power.

The two women at the table nodded and looked interested as we ate. The mood at the table was gentle and warm. Then the man to my right spoke up. He said, “We have to go really slow when we talk about change. For older people, societal change is hard and we have to be sensitive to that. These things take a lot of time.”

Years ago, I would’ve agreed or nodded or even stayed silent. It’s certainly what everyone else at the table did. In a split second, I noticed how the air had changed between all of us. Suddenly it felt thicker, heavier, colder.

I thought about the courage of the trans man at our table to invest money and time in procedures to match his outside appearance to how he felt on the inside. He travelled around to conferences to speak to others about his complicated journey, promoting tolerance and acceptance, and still he had to listen to a person advocate for sensitivity to those having a hard time with societal change.

“No,” I said, somewhat forcefully. “The time to be slow and sensitive has passed. I’m a woman, and I want equality now. I can’t wait any longer. And the comfort of white men is no longer a driving concern, particularly when women, the LGBTQ+ community and people of colour have had to bear the incredible pain of sexism and bigotry for far too long. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for men to behave just a little bit better, be a little bit kinder, and work a little bit harder too so that we can have a fairer world for everyone.”

Glancing to my right, I could see that the middle-aged white man who made the comment was now angry. His neck flushed red. He opened his mouth to argue with me, but I didn’t feel interested in debating this with him. Thankfully, my plate was empty. I stood, wished everyone good luck with their afternoon sessions, mentioned I had a plane to catch, and walked out of the lunchroom.

I don’t know if anyone carried on the discussion when I left or if they all breathed a sigh of relief that I was gone and the tension quickly dissipated. It doesn’t really matter to me. I believe that silence is violence. I spent too many years not using my voice when I heard something I disagreed with. I didn’t want to cause trouble or rock the boat. But now I’m teaching on these subjects, and I want my life to look like my workshop sessions. I want to be the change I wish to see in the world.

We all have a voice. It’s time to start using it. Living small is not going to get the work done. Yes, it will be uncomfortable sometimes. That’s okay. Silence is violence. Our collective voices, used together, carry power.

In Culture

Me Too

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Me Too

When “Me too” began trending on social media this week as a response to the horrific allegations of sexual abuse by Harvey Weinstein specifically and Hollywood in general, I loved the idea of revealing how widespread this issue is but hesitated to participate myself.

In a display of personal gaslighting, I thought, “What’s happened to me is minor compared to what other women have had to endure.” But when a friend of mine shared her story on Facebook, I commented that ALL our stories of harassment and sexism matter. That’s the point of the whole damn thing – to say “me too” so we can continue the conversation because cultural patriarchy has become so widespread that we fail to notice it for the evil that it is.

I grew up in a conservative evangelical Christian setting. I went to church every Sunday, Bible Study on Wednesday, youth group on Friday, church camp in the summer…you get the idea. I lived and breathed patriarchy and sexism. I was taught that God is the leader, and he is male, so therefore in the human realm, the man is king.

This flawed ideology has caused untold pain and suffering in our world. Words like “submit” and “obey” were used regularly in my Christian school and church environments for the relationship a woman was to have with a man. A woman was to be quiet, sweet, giving and gentle. She was not supposed to have her own ideas or disagree with a man.

In the last few years, I’ve completely abandoned the evangelical Christian world. A number of factors went into this decision, but the rampant sexism and racism present in this patriarchal system is now abhorrent to me. I’ve been hurt by it in more ways than I can count and I will not participate in it anymore. I truly believe that the whole thing must crumble so that something new and fair and equal can grow in its place.

One example of physical harassment came at the age of 17 at what used to be called Klondike Days in Edmonton. I was walking with a group of friends when several drunk men, about fifteen years older than us, catcalled loudly as they approached. We tried to ignore them, but one of them grabbed my crotch as he walked by. It hurt physically and stung emotionally. That happened nearly thirty years ago and yet I feel ashamed and embarrassed to recount it now.

What gives a man the right to physically assault a woman in a public place? Or a private one? The answer is: THE SYSTEM. They have the power to do what they want, and this is why the system must change.

I love the idea behind the “Me too” hashtag. It shows frightened and angry women that we are not alone. It provides hope that safety can be found in numbers. It also reveals how huge this problem of toxic masculinity and power abuse really is.

While we’re at it, let’s do a couple of things immediately to give equality a fighting chance:

Stop Calling Women Girls

When a girl gets her period, she is no longer a girl. She is now a woman. Language matters and we don’t refer to a man with a mortgage, a job and children as a “boy”. If we want to be fair, stop calling women girls and even this part of the playing field.

Change Your Language Around Rape and Violence

As Jackson Katz brilliantly demonstrates below, stop using the passive voice when referring to “violence against women”.

Silence is Violence

Speak up, as a woman and as a man. When something is sexist or misogynist or unfair in any way, say something. Be brave and bold. This is how equality works – we cannot stay silent and hope for change. WE ARE THE CHANGE.

Keep up the good work, my friends. We can support and love each other through the pain and shame we have suffered. The “Me too” movement is beautiful and we need every voice in this fight. Don’t lose hope. I’m here and would love to hear your stories.

In Culture, Identity, Movies/TV, Nurture, Parenting, Uncategorized

Cultural Beauty Standard Madness

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Cultural Beauty Standard Madness

It’s time to change the way we think about women and weight in this culture. The entire fashion industry is built on the idea that being extremely thin is the gold standard. Our society literally encourages girls and women to starve in order to be considered attractive. Anything else is disappointing at best but more often disgusting and offensive.

I say NO MORE OF THIS MADNESS. All change starts with individuals, so I am no longer interested in allowing someone else to tell me what beauty looks like. I know for sure it’s not starving yourself so you can wear size 0 jeans.

What’s wrong with a nice, round tummy and thighs that jiggle a bit when you walk? This obsessive pursuit of a demanding beauty takes way too much of our collective mental energy and time, not to mention inciting a raging case of “not-good-enough-ism” in many women who are healthy and gorgeous at a size 12, 14 or 16 but feel gigantic and hideous because of the messaging in our unbalanced society.

I’ve been checking old movies out of the library on DVD to watch as a family, believing that classic cinema with its focus on character development and stellar writing can act as a balm for our cell-phone addicted, dumbed-down current media environment. Last week we watched Citizen Kane (okay, the first half of it before my attention wandered…not completely sure why this is AFI’s top movie of all time) and I was struck by the healthy appearance of the women dancing in one scene.

In 1941, apparently it was desirable and reasonable to have thighs bigger than delicate tree branches, gently flabby upper arms and soft bellies. It’s the polar opposite of what we see now on screen so it jumped out at me.

I’m determined to stop wishing for a flat stomach and perfectly toned arms and legs. It’s simply not worth it to me to put in that kind of time. But it’s not enough to make this decision – I also have to actively reassure myself that how my body looks is okay, DAMMIT. It’s more than okay. I’m strong and healthy and beautiful and thirty pounds over my doctor’s weight and I’m completely over feeling like shit about it.

A lot of this relates to the undercurrent of sexism still very present in our modern world. Most fashion magazines are not aimed at men. The expectation that women have to be beautiful, thin, expertly made-up at all times with their hair bouncy and freshly coloured at a salon is real and pervasive. And you better have a strong sense of self-esteem to go out of the house in anything other than a carefully-designed outfit because in sweat pants you run the risk of feeling marked, lazy and judged.

I really think it’s time for us to stand up against this tyranny. Nobody gets to make us feel inferior without our consent. I thought our cultural beauty standards didn’t bother me but it turns out that they really, really, really do. I’m going to work on actively loving myself through this by reassuring my own rounded body that I’m okay, exactly as I am.

My daughter just turned 14 and is pursuing a career in acting. The pressure to be so tiny that you almost fade out of existence is immense, but I want her to be confident in the body she has and the unique beauty that she possesses. The best way for me to help her love herself and refuse to compare herself to others is to walk this out in front of her.

Who’s with me?