Wexistence

These women are not sluts.
Photo from Allianz.com

According to Rush Limbaugh, a woman who advocates for a health care plan that covers contraceptives “essentially says that she must be paid to have sex. What does that make her? It makes her a slut, right? Makes her a prostitute. She wants to be paid to have sex.” (He’s since apologized, but only after corporate sponsors pulled their ads from his show.)

Not only is such a statement misogynistic and offensive, it’s also extremely ignorant. Contraceptive pills aren’t used just for preventing pregnancy. The pill is basically hormone therapy and is used to treat a wide variety of medical conditions, e.g. seizures, as was mentioned in the article; severe dysmenorrhea, which is extremely painful and even forces some women to miss work/school during their monthly periods; endometriosis, which untreated can lead to infertility, and that’s just to name a few. Some pills lower the risk of certain diseases, including a number of cancers. Scientists even say that nuns should be on the pill, because women who never bear children are more likely to develop breast, ovarian, and uterine cancer.

Providing women with contraceptive pills isn’t about allowing them to have as much sex as they want (which is entirely their business, by the way). It’s about ensuring the health of the 50% of the population who happen to have ovaries. Our own legislators need to keep that in mind during RH bill debates.

On a related note, “Why Patriarchal Men Are Utterly Petrified of Birth Control — And Why We’ll Still Be Fighting About it 100 Years From Now” is a great read. It’s a little shocking to me how controversial birth control still is in the United States. You’d expect it to be hotly debated in the Philippines, but you’d think that in the US it would be a non-issue by by now. A look at the broader historical context makes you realize that “the fight for contraception is not only not over — it hasn’t even really started yet.”

My interest in cakes is purely gastronomic, not symbolic. Wedding cakes have attached to them all these meanings that I simply don’t care for. Though the meanings have evolved over time, I’m still appalled by the history of the custom.

“The wedding cake has been an important part of the wedding celebration since Roman times when a thin wheat cake, representing bounty, was crumbled over the bride’s head to ensure her fertility… The groom would eat part of a loaf of barley bread baked especially for the nuptials and break the rest over his bride’s head. History tells us that breaking the bread symbolized the breaking of the bride’s virginal state and the subsequent dominance of the groom over her.”

I didn’t want to do the cake ceremony at my wedding for this reason. My mother dismissed my objection. I was being silly, she said. Silly because I don’t want to participate in a public spectacle dedicated to my virginity and fertility? Because I don’t want to continue a misogynistic tradition?! Apparently, yes.

Ryan of course thinks the Roman tradition is hilarious and asked if he could break cake over my head. So that it isn’t sexist he’d let me break cake over his head too. An amusing idea, but one that was ultimately rejected.

The cake ceremony also “symbolizes the first time the newlywed couple breaks bread as husband and wife, and it also demonstrates their pledge to support and nourish one another.” Cheesy, but at least more egalitarian.

“Most couples freeze the cake with the intention of sharing it on their first wedding anniversary. The tradition has its roots in the late 19th century when grand cakes were baked for christenings. It was assumed that the christening would occur soon after the wedding ceremony, so the two ceremonies were often linked, as were the cakes.”

Call me unromantic but I don’t relish the idea of eating year-old wedding cake. I prefer to attach sentimental value to things that are less likely to give me food poisoning.

Also, this tradition started in the 1800s? Electrolux patented the first domestic refrigerator in 1922 and G.E. introduced the first refrigerator with a freezer component in 1939. How were people storing their wedding cakes before then? A christening ideally takes place at least nine months after the wedding. Do you mean to tell me that people actually ate cakes that were sitting around in open air for nine entire months?! I’m genuinely scandalized.

Not that any of this matters now.

In which my fertility is ensured and my hypothetical virginal state is ceremonially broken
November 30, 2010

A follow-up to my previous post on the subject, for an article my friend Rej is writing for GMAnews.tv:

If/when you get married, which of the following will you do? Why?

a. Take your husband’s name
b. Keep using your father’s name
c. Hyphenate

I’ve chosen to keep my surname because it is tied to my history, my heritage and my identity. I’m not any less me because I got married. I’m not any less my husband’s wife because I didn’t take his surname. I suppose you could argue that I wouldn’t be any less me if I took my husband’s surname, but I’ve been Aissa the Individual much longer than I have been Aissa the Wife of Ryan.

I prefer to be known as Aissa the Individual, who incidentally is also the Wife of Ryan, as opposed to Aissa the Wife of Ryan, who incidentally also has her own identity that has nothing to do with his.

I briefly thought about hyphenating, and would’ve thus been known as Aissa the Individual and the Wife of Ryan, but decided that hyphens are too cumbersome for me. And a little self-important. I’m not Her Royal Highness Princess of Wales and Duchess of Cornwall. It’s not necessary for me to have all my names out on display like they’re royal titles.

I also think that keeping my birth name speaks to the dynamics of our relationship. We both think of our marriage as a partnership between equals. We don’t subscribe to traditional gender roles (he is not “head of the family” because he is the man, I am not the obedient and submissive wife in the readings of the Catholic nuptial mass). Neither is subordinate to the other. We arrive at joint decisions by discussing things from positions of equal footing. We also place great importance on our respective individuality. We are not each other’s “better half”. We are whole individuals who recognize that while we have a life together, we also have friends, interests, activities etc. independent of each other.

What name will you use in your legal documents?

My birth name. (I dislike the term “maiden name” because it sounds so archaic.) Aside from the deeply rooted issues above, I just can’t be bothered with the paperwork necessary to legally change my name.

What is your profession? What name will you use professionally?

I do community development work. I intend to use my birth name professionally.

Did you discuss your decision with your boyfriend/fiancé? How does he feel about it?

Yes, and it’s not a big deal. He doesn’t have any strong feelings about it one way or the other, and more importantly, he respects my right to use whichever surname I prefer. He understands that to me, not adopting his surname speaks to our marriage as a partnership between equals and affirms the importance we place on individuality.

Does your mother use her husband’s name?

She does. For a while she used a hyphen but she found it cumbersome and eventually ended up using her husband’s surname.

Did you know that you’re not required by law to take your husband’s name?

Yup.

If you intend to keep using your maiden name, how do you intend to respond to all the people who ask ‘why’?

I will give them the answer to Question No. 1 and they will be sorry they asked.

All the brides among my Facebook contacts promptly changed their last names after their weddings, and it made me wonder how many women opt to keep their last names and how people generally feel about the issue.

My quick Google search didn’t turn up any surveys in the Philippines, but in the United States I found that women increasingly pick husbands’ surnames over their own and that 70% of Americans say married women should change their names, 50% say they should be required to.

This website asked “Should married women keep their last name or switch to their husband’s?” and 61% of respondents said “switch” while 39% said “keep.”

Some of the answers on the “switch” side were really creepy, e.g. “Once they get married, they should give up their own identity and become part of him.” (OMG WTF.)

I kind of understand why women opt to change change their names. For many, taking your husband’s name is a symbol of love/commitment/unity etc. For others, it’s not a big deal one way or the other and they see no reason to fight social convention. Some may prefer to keep their names but give in to social pressure. And apparently, a lot of women are under the mistaken impression that they’re legally required to adopt their husband’s surname.

I personally feel very strongly about keeping my name. When I was younger I used to doodle Aissa [insert guy's name here] on the back of my notebooks, but the way I think about my identity and relationships/marriage has changed a lot since then.

It’s going to be a pain having to explain to people why I didn’t take my husband’s last name, but I realize I don’t have to be prissy about it and constantly correct people that I didn’t take my husband’s name because my name is tied to my identity and I’m not any less me just because I got married and it’s an archaic custom, I’m his partner not his property yadda yadda yadda.

I’ve decided to use my “maiden name” legally and my married name occasionally, e.g. when I attend PTA meetings at my kid’s school or whatever, and just try to squelch the urge to pontificate when I’m referred to as Mrs. Hislastname.

I liked what Nancy Gibbs had to say on the matter:

All these identities are me: Ms. when I’m out slaying dragons, Mrs. when I’m in the company of those I love most, Miss when I want to stay home under the covers and daydream. Feminists a generation ago fought for the title and dreamed of Freedom and Choice and Opportunity; maybe the surest sign that they’ve won is not which title we pick, but that we can have them all at once.

What do Muslims wear when they go swimming? I hadn’t thought to ask until I encountered this query about swimming attire on ClickTheCity. Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen any recognizably Muslim Muslims at the beach or a public pool.

Muslims follow a dress code that is based on the Qur’an and the Sunnah. Men are required to cover the middle part of the body from navel to knee, while women are required to cover the entire body except the hands and face.

It’s stricter for women because “Islam elevates its women to the peak of respect and saves a woman from disgrace and humiliation, giving her a chance to be treated like an honourable human being and not a mere sex object for the lustful desires of bestial miscreants.” The guidelines for women’s modesty are collectively known as the Hijaab. “Hijaab” literally means screen, curtain, partition and concealment. As a verb it means to conceal oneself from the view.

Obviously, swimming poses less of a challenge to men. My quick Google search for “Muslim men swimwear” turned up these wetsuits, which don’t appear to be particularly Islamic. Although I can’t tell from the picture if they’re just regular wetsuits or if they’re of a looser fit. The Hijaab requires women to hide the shape of their bodies but I don’t know if the same rule applies to men.

As for Muslim women, I found that:

Many women… don’t go in the water. Maybe they will go in the water up to their knees, and actually wear an old pair of tights or loose soft pants. The other thing lots of Muslim families do is to find a secluded area of beach where no one else but their families are… Many women actually go to one of their female friends house with a swimming pool and wear swimming clothes, but they won’t be exposing themselves to strange men there… In many Islamic countries, there actually are segregated areas of beach and swimming centers where Muslim women can swim by themselves. (Yahoo! Answers)

And then there’s the sartorial innovation known as the burkini.

Burkinis have been around for a few years, but since I’m not exactly at the cutting edge of conservative fashion, they’re news to me. They allow Muslim women (or women who, for whatever reason, are not comfortable with exposing their bodies) to enjoy the water while maintaining their modesty. You’d think that this would be welcomed as a good thing, but the burkini has not been entirely well received.

…The new swimsuits have drawn criticism from both East and West. “This is like playing a game with Allah,” asserted a poster on the website ShiaChat, complaining that the stretchy fabric reveals curves. (Time.com)

Women’s rights in the Islamic world obviously have a long way to go, and certainly there are more pressing issues than which fashion statements are acceptable in Islam. But the burkini is a bit more than just a fashion statement. It is an assertion of Muslim female identity. It represents a subtle renegotiation of the Hijaab and poses a challenge to the status quo. In which case I say, You go, girlfriends.