White Ribbon Day: Violence against women, disabilities and where to begin

I’m taking a break from writing about a client for a final to writing about a client for my blog. So, it’s kind of like I’m not procrastinating, right?

This is what social work school does to me...
turns me into a 5 year old blonde boy.

Anyway, this paper I am writing which is basically a quick overview of the client and then a discussion of different theories and interventions is depressing me. I’m writing about an African-American woman, around 40 years old, who has become one of my favorite clients (shh, don’t tell). We’ll call her Darla. She is completely blind and was born blind. Because of her disability, her parents neglected her. Her parents left her in her crib sometimes for days. It’s a miracle she survived past infancy.

Because of this neglect, Darla was developmentally delayed and is extremely quiet. She’ll speak ever so often in groups, and it makes me so happy when she does. However, Darla has been severely taken advantage of in his life. The neglectful parents aside, she was frequently molested and beaten in her foster homes. She didn’t know how to tell anyone. She probably didn’t even know it was wrong.

On Twitter earlier today, S.E. Smith posted an article about the increased risk of violence faced by women with disabilities. I am fairly certain that almost every woman in our program has experienced violence and sexual violence. I know for a fact they have all faced emotional violence. They’ve been taken advantage of because of their vulnerabilities. The article posted said some research suggests that nine out of ten developmentally disabled women will experience a sexual assault, and it is universally agreed that most will have to face unwanted sexual contact eventually.

I’ve written previously about rape culture in our society. This kind of abuse and neglect is particularly difficult for me to process because Darla and other clients are so vulnerable. They will always have to depend on people. And most of them, at least in my agency, still have the ability to trust. I am amazed at how Darla, while silent, is so expressive. When we listen to music in group, she is often the first one up dancing. She loves dancing.

Also known as "White Ribbon Day"

Today is the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women. I appreciate the sentiment and all of the hard work behind it, but I am still so angry that we only have one day a year designated for this. Darla, however, is an anchor for me. It’s inspiring to know that someone so beautiful can be born from such ugliness.

I am kind of annoyed with how I’ve been writing about things that are upsetting and leaving the post closed on a negative note. I am a person of action; what are some things we can do now to make the world safer for women and for Darla?

Clarisse Thorn for Feminist.us wrote some great suggestions. I suggest you check out her list, as it encompasses everything I have and then some.

Chris Brown

• Speak up if you have the voice. It’s not easy. Maggie Kuhn put it best when she said, “Stand before the people you fear and speak your mind—even if your voice shakes.”
• A spade is a spade, rape is rape and assault is assault. It doesn’t matter if the rape occurred while the person was making one of your favorite movies, or exposing Bank of America for the crooks that they are, or writing your favorite pop song.
• Recognize sexist images. Challenge them.
• Engage people in discussions about rape culture. Do not fear being “uppity.”
• Practice radical self-care. Fighting toxic rape culture is a part of that of course, but you cannot be an instrument of change if you allow yourself to burn out.
• And finally, if you can, offer supportive, healing, caring touch. This sounds bizarre, but Darla cannot get enough touch. I know some folks consider touching clients inappropriate, but a hand on the shoulder or a grip of the hand can go a long way. Of course, with consent. 

Who is really Endangered?

Wow.

So where do I begin? I spent my evening at the Endangered Species Summit, which describes itself as "An international summit to challenge the toxic culture that teaches girls and women to hate their bodies." Sounds like something I can definitely get behind, right? It wasn't that simple.

Courtney Martin and the women at the Women's Therapy Centre Institute have created a terrific space. They really have. But the first panel didn't sit well with me, at all. It was titled "Real Talk: Body Image Advocacy Across Sectors." It featured the one and only Susie Orbach, author of Fat is a Feminist Issue, Emme, supermodel turned host of exploitive reality tv series More to Love, Wendy Naugel, executive editor of Glamour Magazine, Katrin Eismann, digital imaging expert and Chareah Jackson, associate editor at Heart & Soul. The moderator was Jessica Weiner, author of Life Doesn't Begin Five Pounds From Now and Dove's Gobal Ambassador for Self-Esteem.

The conversation mainly focused on how us women, as consumers, could shift the paradigm. Now, I'll be honest--I was critical from the start. I personally believe the root of our problem is in consumerism as a culture, but that's a whole 'nother conversation. I let it go (kinda sorta), and I listened to what they had to say. And what did I hear? A whole lot of the same ol' shit.

And I say that with caring behind it. I really do. I don't think these women were coming from a bad place. However, the concept of "consumer power" only applies to a very minute number of women. Weiner began the panel by putting forth the idea that we need to use our power in numbers to effect change and shifted from that concept to the idea of utilizing our consumer power. What that idea forgets is the fact that while we make up the majority of the population, we have access to a disproportionate amount of wealth. Who has the money? White men. And the few women who have money? They are by and large white. And regardless of what Oprah's theme music would tell you, she is not every woman.

After frantically writing notes back and forth with my partner-in-crime Katie, I decided to go up during the Q&A and address the issue. Before I spoke, however, a kick ass woman decided to call out the Glamour executive editor on her hypocracy. She pointed out the fact that the latest issue of Glamour (which she had in her hands! classic) only had a few women of color, featured a large number of pages dedicated to body shaming and diet talk, and how most of the models are a size four and under. SERIOUSLY. Ms. Naugle pretty much denied all responsibility. She said it was up to the consumers to write to advertisers, and how she doesn't even look at advertisements before they go out. The audience member demanded a date, and she refused to give one. I know she means well, but as far as I am concerned, until she starts walking the walk, she is part of the problem.

And then it was my turn. I was nervous as hell. I started by thanking the brave woman who went before me, and I pointed out the fact that not every woman has this consumer power. Some women are, believe it or not, poor. In fact, most women are. Based on the reaction, I knew I had the audience's support. I, being me, couldn't keep myself composed. I broke into tears because I was one, terrified, and two, really concerned about what was happening in front of me. Emme suggested that just spending "ONE DOLLAR" would help. I said to her "That is really easy for you to say." Weiner, the moderator, engaged me further. She suggested that woman write letters when they can't spend money. First of all, that implies that women even conceptualize themselves as having body image as an issue. Based on my experience, most are too concerned with figuring out how to get dinner on the table to think about their body image in an introspective manner. Second of all, I was standing in front of her. I could have written advertisers a letter, but I thought being there in person would be, oh, I don't know, more effective.

Also, this wasn't my point. I wasn't trying to discredit the work the women on the panel were doing, but the fact that every woman up there refused to own up to their privilege and instead put the onus back onto poor women was super disheartening. I struggled with pointing it out, but did it not seem completely fucked up that there was ONE woman of color on the panel?

It was like I was placed in a time machine. I felt like I was in the 1980s and I was speaking to a group of second-wave feminists who didn't understand the idea that some women don't deal with sexism exclusively. And how a black woman or a Native woman or an Asian woman or a Latina experiences sexism is different than a white woman. ESPECIALLY a white, former-supermodel. For the first time in my life, I have such a bigger respect for the womanist movement. Courtney Martin, in her opening statements, said this is the beginning of real action in the movement. If we're having this same conversation right now, I don't know if that's true. And if it is? This is not the movement I signed up for.

Plenty of women came up to me after the fact and thanked me for speaking up. I know I wasn't the only one thinking what I was thinking. All I want is for those women up on that panel to think a little more broadly. Me fitting my ass into an Oscar De La Renta dress is not going to change things for very long. Broadening the scope of the male gaze will only get us so far. We need to address all issues that contribute to our body image problems, including our consumerist, racist, ableist, sizist, sexist, hetero-normative culture.

To put it succinctly: THE MASTER'S TOOLS WILL NEVER DISMANTLE THE MASTER'S HOUSE. Thank you, Audre Lorde.

Lessons in loss

The pretty much new blog has been kind of quiet. That's to be expected, considering I'm a grad student who has a penchant for biting off more than I can chew :D

It's also been a rough month for me, both personally and professionally. My placement has to be one of the most difficult internships imaginable (besides perhaps working in a hospice). I'm placed in a domestic violence shelter. It's a short term, emergency shelter. Clients have about 135 days to stay there before they're sent back to the homeless processing center in NYC to be placed in yet another shelter. My first batch of clients are beginning to terminate right now, and I'm feeling all kinds of conflicted about that.

There's one client in particular that is difficult. She's in her early-40s, with an adorable daughter. She's relentlessly positive when most others would be breaking down, and she's a devoted mother, always putting her precocious 3 year old above all else. She's discharging today. And she's not really sure where she's going. She's undocumented. That means she can't get documented employment, and thus is not qualified for the only housing program worth pursing. She gets something like $18 in public assistance. She's in the middle of a custody battle with a man who threw her down two flights of stairs, with a man who brought her here from her home country where she had a rewarding career, with a degree that is no good here, when she didn't speak a word of English (oh, did I mention she's amazingly intelligent? Taught herself English in only a few years, and she speaks beautifully).

To say there's a lot of counter-transference going on in this case would be a gross understatement. During my time as her counselor, she has transformed into a mother figure. For someone like her, I think this was very beneficial because she is a nurturer and her self-esteem is rooted in feeling like she is a good nurturer. Her daughter also reminds me a lot of myself at that age. The dynamic of our relationship, however, brings up a lot of my issues with my mother. She reminds me of what could have been if x, y and z didn't happen. It's shown me that I haven't grieved over the loss of my mother-daughter relationship. My mother isn't dead, or anything. I don't mean to give that impression. She's just unable to provide guidance and comfort for me, because she can't even provide it for herself. I haven't come to terms with this, and I think this client made me feel comforted.

I was a very parentified child. My mother was in an abusive relationship. She was always so fragile, and I was her protector. The client's daughter feels the same way about her mother. She once drew a picture of two people: a really tall person and a really short person. She identified the really tall person as herself. The short person was her mother. When asked why, she said it's because she needs to protect her mommy from the monster. I can't say I didn't feel the same way about the client during our relationship. We once spent an extraordinarily long day together in court, and I remember looking over at her. She had her head between her hands, and she looked so worn, so exhausted. Underneath her strong exterior, she really was struggling with everything. I recognized immediately how I felt at that moment, and it was exactly how I would feel when I would find my mom crying over the stove, in her room, where ever. I wanted to save her.

I think this termination has been harder on me than on her. I want to keep in touch, but I can't. I want to help her after she leaves, but I can't. I want to hand her a green card, but, yeah, I can't.

Losing this client and the few others who will be gone by the week's end hurts. I am queen of abandonment issues, plus I have a 1 o'clock appointment to euthanize my sick cat today. I'm ready for 2012 already.