Jeff brought my attention to this article today, which discusses a recent study about sexual victimization in teens. The study is a randomized controlled trial in which the control group went through virtual reality training in which they practiced firmly saying "no" to sexual advances from male avatars while the control group received no training. In the three months following the training, the control group reported sexual victimization at a rate of 22% (about average according to the 2006 Department of Justice study), while only 10% in the treatment reported victimization in the same period.
This study is interesting to me because it trains girls in being assertive and unapologetic, setting boundaries and being outspoken when those boundaries are being crossed, and putting aside "polite" behavior when the situation does not call for it. This is something that I talk about a lot, and the term that I have come to use for it is "turning off the polite switch." My theory is that we spend most of our youth being trained in proper socialization, so when it comes time to turn those behaviors off, most people have a hard time doing so.
In particular, I think people have trouble being assertive and impolite with people who they see as generally nonthreatening--for example, people they have known before this incident, or people they consider peers or friends. For the majority of cases of sexual assault or victimization, the perpetrator and victim do know each other, so it is not surprising to me that the victim would have trouble turning off the social behaviors that they have been trained their entire lives to use with people they know and will continue to interact with. Most likely, if it were a stranger on the street threatening them, it would be easier to tell them off rudely; it's easier to use rude behaviors with someone with whom you do not have a prior or future relationship.
The training used in this study used situations of escalating levels of threat to get girls accustomed to turning off the polite switch--even when it feels rude and wrong--to send a clear message to the perpetrator that he is violating her boundaries. I think the exercise of being assertive and rude and learning when the situation calls for it is extremely valuable for the prevention of sexual assault, and I hope that this pilot study will be replicated on a larger scale. I'm curious to see whether the results will hold up.
Sunday, January 25, 2015
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
1 in 5 and Lying with Statistics
I think at this point it's fair to say that almost everyone has heard the statistic, "1 in 5 women will be sexually assaulted before graduating from college." So, I was intrigued when I stumbled upon this article from the Washington Examiner that claims that the statistic has been debunked. Really? Interesting! Let's check it out!
I followed the links in that article, which took me to a very official-looking special report from the United States Department of Justice. According to the article from the Washington Examiner, "The survey [analyzed by the Department of Justice] found that between 1995 and 2013, an average of 6.1 for every 1,000 female students were raped or sexually assaulted each year. That's about 0.61 percent annually, or (at most) 2.44 percent over the average four-year period (one in 41). That’s way smaller than 20 percent." Naturally, as an evaluator-in-training and a critical thinker, I wondered what they were basing that data on, so I looked through the report.
First off, I'd like to note a few things that most feminists like to stress about rape and sexual assault. For one, these are deeply personal incidents. People who have gone through any type of trauma often need some degree of internal healing before they can talk to strangers about what they have gone through, but yet we have this idea that rape victims will immediately go running to the warm, understanding arms of the police for help and comfort. Police are generally not perceived as warm and comforting; even if an officer is the best human being in the world, he or she is still most likely a stranger, and he or she must ask a ton of probing questions that force the survivor to relive an extremely uncomfortable experience that he or she is likely still sorting through internally. And in the end, that officer can and often does decide that a rape or assault did not (or probably did not) occur, or the case is thrown out due to lack of evidence, or a thousand other things can happen that lead to inaction or underreporting.
To make things worse, victim-blaming is a very real issue when it comes to dealing with the legal world of rape and sexual assault. There are steps that would-be victims are expected to take to make themselves as unvictimizable as possible, and even if they take all of them--not drinking, dressing conservatively, not flirting, not dancing, not walking alone, not going out at night, etc--most people can still think of more precautions that "should" have been taken. Most people are already pretty good at blaming themselves for the things that go wrong in their lives, so this is upsetting and counterproductive for survivors to hear, and it contributes to people not wanting to report their experiences to the authorities.
There are so many other nuances--especially about the experience of surviving sexual assault in a college or university setting--that I would love to bring up here, but I want to bring this back to the Department of Justice report before this becomes a novel.
When one is collecting data about a sensitive, nuanced, highly personal incident in a large population from strangers, it's important to look at the survey instrument being used. For example, what were the questions like? How were they worded, and how were the surveys administered? What populations were covered?
A lot of survivors of sexual assault are reluctant to use words like "rape" or "sexual assault," because they sound so black and white and individual experiences rarely feel that way, but when acts are described in more concrete ways, survivors will agree that they were coerced or forced to do those acts. (While it may be easy as a reader to make the jump that being forced or coerced into sex acts is by definition sexual assault, try to keep in mind that most rapes and sexual assaults are committed by perpetrators who know their victims. Most people do not consider the people they know to be rapists or sex offenders, so it really is hard for most people to put the label on the act.)
The Department of Justice report explains that the surveys preface their questions by briefly acknowledging that it can be hard to talk about rape and sexual assault. Then, they immediately dive in and ask, "Have you been forced or coerced to engage in unwanted sexual activity by a) someone you didn't know before, b) a casual acquaintance, or c) someone you know well?" This question is followed by others designed to capture details about the incident(s), "including the type of injury, presence of a weapon, offender characteristics, and reporting to police."
Please note, this survey is administered in person and over the phone, so the respondent is either staring a stranger in the face or speaking to a stranger over the phone answering these questions. Realistically, how many people are going to discuss a deeply personal experience with a stranger? A stranger who works for the government? (But don't worry guys, they got a 74% overall response rate, so at least they talked to a lot of people, even if no one wanted to actually open up about their experiences.)
To their credit, the authors of the report compared the survey that they used, which is called the National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS), to two other widely used survey instruments: the National Intimate Partner and Sexual Violence Survey (NISVS) and the Campus Sexual Assault Study (CSA). They acknowledge that the other two instruments obtained substantially higher estimates of of victimization rates than the NCVS, but they justified their use of the NCVS by saying that:
I followed the links in that article, which took me to a very official-looking special report from the United States Department of Justice. According to the article from the Washington Examiner, "The survey [analyzed by the Department of Justice] found that between 1995 and 2013, an average of 6.1 for every 1,000 female students were raped or sexually assaulted each year. That's about 0.61 percent annually, or (at most) 2.44 percent over the average four-year period (one in 41). That’s way smaller than 20 percent." Naturally, as an evaluator-in-training and a critical thinker, I wondered what they were basing that data on, so I looked through the report.
First off, I'd like to note a few things that most feminists like to stress about rape and sexual assault. For one, these are deeply personal incidents. People who have gone through any type of trauma often need some degree of internal healing before they can talk to strangers about what they have gone through, but yet we have this idea that rape victims will immediately go running to the warm, understanding arms of the police for help and comfort. Police are generally not perceived as warm and comforting; even if an officer is the best human being in the world, he or she is still most likely a stranger, and he or she must ask a ton of probing questions that force the survivor to relive an extremely uncomfortable experience that he or she is likely still sorting through internally. And in the end, that officer can and often does decide that a rape or assault did not (or probably did not) occur, or the case is thrown out due to lack of evidence, or a thousand other things can happen that lead to inaction or underreporting.
To make things worse, victim-blaming is a very real issue when it comes to dealing with the legal world of rape and sexual assault. There are steps that would-be victims are expected to take to make themselves as unvictimizable as possible, and even if they take all of them--not drinking, dressing conservatively, not flirting, not dancing, not walking alone, not going out at night, etc--most people can still think of more precautions that "should" have been taken. Most people are already pretty good at blaming themselves for the things that go wrong in their lives, so this is upsetting and counterproductive for survivors to hear, and it contributes to people not wanting to report their experiences to the authorities.
There are so many other nuances--especially about the experience of surviving sexual assault in a college or university setting--that I would love to bring up here, but I want to bring this back to the Department of Justice report before this becomes a novel.
When one is collecting data about a sensitive, nuanced, highly personal incident in a large population from strangers, it's important to look at the survey instrument being used. For example, what were the questions like? How were they worded, and how were the surveys administered? What populations were covered?
A lot of survivors of sexual assault are reluctant to use words like "rape" or "sexual assault," because they sound so black and white and individual experiences rarely feel that way, but when acts are described in more concrete ways, survivors will agree that they were coerced or forced to do those acts. (While it may be easy as a reader to make the jump that being forced or coerced into sex acts is by definition sexual assault, try to keep in mind that most rapes and sexual assaults are committed by perpetrators who know their victims. Most people do not consider the people they know to be rapists or sex offenders, so it really is hard for most people to put the label on the act.)
The Department of Justice report explains that the surveys preface their questions by briefly acknowledging that it can be hard to talk about rape and sexual assault. Then, they immediately dive in and ask, "Have you been forced or coerced to engage in unwanted sexual activity by a) someone you didn't know before, b) a casual acquaintance, or c) someone you know well?" This question is followed by others designed to capture details about the incident(s), "including the type of injury, presence of a weapon, offender characteristics, and reporting to police."
Please note, this survey is administered in person and over the phone, so the respondent is either staring a stranger in the face or speaking to a stranger over the phone answering these questions. Realistically, how many people are going to discuss a deeply personal experience with a stranger? A stranger who works for the government? (But don't worry guys, they got a 74% overall response rate, so at least they talked to a lot of people, even if no one wanted to actually open up about their experiences.)
To their credit, the authors of the report compared the survey that they used, which is called the National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS), to two other widely used survey instruments: the National Intimate Partner and Sexual Violence Survey (NISVS) and the Campus Sexual Assault Study (CSA). They acknowledge that the other two instruments obtained substantially higher estimates of of victimization rates than the NCVS, but they justified their use of the NCVS by saying that:
- Responses were more consistent among groups and subgroups with NCVS than with the other survey instruments
- NCVS is easier to administer in a wider variety of contexts, allowing for easy comparison across groups and time.
Okay, responses across groups and subgroups were more consistent with NCVS...but should they have been? Maybe there are simply large discrepancies between the victimization rates of certain groups and subgroups. I'm not convinced that this is a good reason to choose this instrument. I do think that it is important to choose an instrument that allows for comparison across groups and time, but I am not convinced that the other instruments would not allow for similarly effective comparison. Furthermore, I don't think that a survey that requires people to talk face-to-face to strangers on the street about sexual assault is going to give effective comparisons in any world.
Another thing that I found interesting in the comparison of the NCVS to the other instruments was the orientation of the instrument versus the purpose of the report. The authors note that NCVS is presented as a survey primarily about criminal behavior, and responses about sexual victimization often exclude those not seen as criminal. Conversely, the NISVS and CSA are more behaviorally oriented; they give exhaustive lists of behaviors and acts, and they discuss the absence or presence of consent or the capacity to give consent (for example, if one is under the influence of alcohol or drugs, one is not considered able to give consent). While a survivor of sexual assault may not see the perpetrator as a criminal and thus may respond negatively to questions on the NCVS (or may not want to discuss their experiences with a stranger on the street), the more specific questions on the other two instruments may resonate more with that same individual. Moreover, the CSA and NISVS are self-administered and phone only, respectively; neither requires a face-to-face conversation.
So, to sum up: Interesting report, U.S. Department of Justice. I am not at all convinced by your choice of survey instrument, and I think that your statistics are not representative of what you are trying to report on. If you are looking to gather data about rates of sexual assault, you need language that captures that, collected in a way that doesn't scare people off. Please try again. Thank you.
Thursday, December 4, 2014
On Being White and Supporting Systems
This post has been a long time coming, and I'm going to do my best to keep it fairly concise and to the point. The U.S. has obviously had a lot of turmoil lately in terms of police violence, particularly white officers killing unarmed black males. I wanted to write about the unrest in Ferguson, Missouri after a grand jury failed to convict Darren Wilson, the officer who shot Michael Brown to death. Then a cop, who had been declared unfit for duty two years prior, shot and killed 12-year-old Tamir Rice in Cleveland, Ohio because he was playing with a pellet gun and he "looked older". Then, a cop in Staten Island choked Eric Garner to death--an incident that was not only witnessed, but videotaped--and a grand jury still acquitted him. And these are just the high profile cases making the news recently. Police departments do not keep official counts of civilians killed, nor does the federal government. There are several crowd-sourced attempts to count civilians killed by police, like the ones mentioned in this article. But does it not raise the hairs on the back of your neck, just a little bit, to know that there is no oversight of cops killing people?
The morning after the announcement of the grand jury decision in Ferguson, there were riots. No big shock, right? Here's me putting myself hypothetically in the shoes of someone in that community:
Someone in my community was killed. He may or may not have been in the process of doing something wrong, but either way, he was killed by a man who was in a position of power, who has lived a life of relative privilege, and whose job is to protect. It was a case of the white man's word against the black man's, so of course the white man's won. My community is one of poverty, one where there is no mobility, and one where a black life never has held value for white people or people of privilege, so this outcome brings to the surface generations of tensions. It's not just an issue of "Was Michael Brown breaking the law," but, "Does an incidence of wrongdoing rightfully condemn an unarmed man to death?"
After the Ferguson decision, I saw a lot of people posting about how the riots and looting were marks against the cause for Brown. After all, how does stealing or burning a cop car demonstrate that you are a rational person demanding rational things? I think that this perspective willfully forgets that everyone has a breaking point. That's what this post is meant to address.
I am a white person of privilege, and I recognize that, because of that status, there are things that I will never understand about what life is like for other people. I try to stretch myself by just spending some time each day thinking, if I didn't have a car, and still had to do these same tasks today, how would that change my life? If I did not have financial support from my parents to fall back on, how would that change my life? If I had gotten pregnant at 16, how would that have changed my life? If I lived in a community where pride was one of the most important things I had to cling to, how would that change me as a person? And so on. I think that through these exercises, I have gotten better at letting go of my worldview and seeing why other people might behave the way they do in situations where I would do something completely different. I encourage other people to do the same--it's free, and it's healthy.
So back to riots and looting. Imagine that you grew up knowing that, if you were in need and you called 911, the police might help you, but they also might profile you and think that you're the problem. By calling 911 for help, you would be taking a risk--and that's assuming they even showed up. There are plenty of high crime neighborhoods that are horribly under- or un-served by police.
Continuing that thought experiment, imagine that you were told growing up that there was an elaborate set of rules that you had to follow if you ever encountered a cop. Hands had to stay in plain sight; if you were driving, you should keep your license and registration out on the seat next to you, just in case. Always speak politely, even if the cop has stopped you for seemingly no reason: walking in a short skirt, driving while black, etc.
You followed these rules because you knew you had to in order to ensure your safety, but you knew that your white neighbors didn't have to go through the same charades.
Now, back to the white person's reality. You're taught from a young age that police officers are heroes. You're told to call them if you ever need help. You're told to be respectful to them because they're great people who deserve that respect. You might break the law in small ways, but you know you'll pay a fine and go on your way. You feel safe and protected because you know that, should anything happen to you, you can call 911 and help will be on the way.
When you hear that there is a problem with cops killing unarmed black men, you pause. It's not that you doubt that it's a problem. Obviously people shouldn't kill people. It's just...what were those men doing? They weren't armed, but did they appear to be? Were they threatening the cops? Did they look threatening? Plus, black communities have more gun violence on average than white communities, right?, so it would be reasonable for a cop to think that there would be guns involved.
On the surface, these are all very rational thoughts. The thing is, implicit in these thoughts are a lot of assumptions. The biggest assumption is: These systems work.
This is where the title of my post comes from. I was thinking about how and why people supported Jim Crow laws, why men opposed women's suffrage, and generally why privileged groups (especially white people) have supported oppressive systems over time. It seems like it mainly comes down to an assumption that the system works and an issue of unwillingness of privileged groups to give up comfort.
For example, I assume that if a cop wrongly kills a civilian, he will be convicted and jailed. I assume that the justice system and the police system work properly so that these things happen a vast majority of the time. I am so secure in these assumptions, in fact, that I will cover my eyes and plug my ears and say "That's an exception!" every time a cop is acquitted or the killing fails to be reported at all. Why? Because it's not my community that's being effected. I still feel safe, because no one I know well is at risk, and I still have my 911 safety net.
I think this perspective is where a lot of people I know are coming from. I encourage these individuals to stop worrying so much about whether or not Michael Brown was an exemplary citizen--it just doesn't matter at this point. What does matter is what system you're supporting. It's time to think critically.
The morning after the announcement of the grand jury decision in Ferguson, there were riots. No big shock, right? Here's me putting myself hypothetically in the shoes of someone in that community:
Someone in my community was killed. He may or may not have been in the process of doing something wrong, but either way, he was killed by a man who was in a position of power, who has lived a life of relative privilege, and whose job is to protect. It was a case of the white man's word against the black man's, so of course the white man's won. My community is one of poverty, one where there is no mobility, and one where a black life never has held value for white people or people of privilege, so this outcome brings to the surface generations of tensions. It's not just an issue of "Was Michael Brown breaking the law," but, "Does an incidence of wrongdoing rightfully condemn an unarmed man to death?"
After the Ferguson decision, I saw a lot of people posting about how the riots and looting were marks against the cause for Brown. After all, how does stealing or burning a cop car demonstrate that you are a rational person demanding rational things? I think that this perspective willfully forgets that everyone has a breaking point. That's what this post is meant to address.
I am a white person of privilege, and I recognize that, because of that status, there are things that I will never understand about what life is like for other people. I try to stretch myself by just spending some time each day thinking, if I didn't have a car, and still had to do these same tasks today, how would that change my life? If I did not have financial support from my parents to fall back on, how would that change my life? If I had gotten pregnant at 16, how would that have changed my life? If I lived in a community where pride was one of the most important things I had to cling to, how would that change me as a person? And so on. I think that through these exercises, I have gotten better at letting go of my worldview and seeing why other people might behave the way they do in situations where I would do something completely different. I encourage other people to do the same--it's free, and it's healthy.
So back to riots and looting. Imagine that you grew up knowing that, if you were in need and you called 911, the police might help you, but they also might profile you and think that you're the problem. By calling 911 for help, you would be taking a risk--and that's assuming they even showed up. There are plenty of high crime neighborhoods that are horribly under- or un-served by police.
Continuing that thought experiment, imagine that you were told growing up that there was an elaborate set of rules that you had to follow if you ever encountered a cop. Hands had to stay in plain sight; if you were driving, you should keep your license and registration out on the seat next to you, just in case. Always speak politely, even if the cop has stopped you for seemingly no reason: walking in a short skirt, driving while black, etc.
You followed these rules because you knew you had to in order to ensure your safety, but you knew that your white neighbors didn't have to go through the same charades.
Now, back to the white person's reality. You're taught from a young age that police officers are heroes. You're told to call them if you ever need help. You're told to be respectful to them because they're great people who deserve that respect. You might break the law in small ways, but you know you'll pay a fine and go on your way. You feel safe and protected because you know that, should anything happen to you, you can call 911 and help will be on the way.
When you hear that there is a problem with cops killing unarmed black men, you pause. It's not that you doubt that it's a problem. Obviously people shouldn't kill people. It's just...what were those men doing? They weren't armed, but did they appear to be? Were they threatening the cops? Did they look threatening? Plus, black communities have more gun violence on average than white communities, right?, so it would be reasonable for a cop to think that there would be guns involved.
On the surface, these are all very rational thoughts. The thing is, implicit in these thoughts are a lot of assumptions. The biggest assumption is: These systems work.
This is where the title of my post comes from. I was thinking about how and why people supported Jim Crow laws, why men opposed women's suffrage, and generally why privileged groups (especially white people) have supported oppressive systems over time. It seems like it mainly comes down to an assumption that the system works and an issue of unwillingness of privileged groups to give up comfort.
For example, I assume that if a cop wrongly kills a civilian, he will be convicted and jailed. I assume that the justice system and the police system work properly so that these things happen a vast majority of the time. I am so secure in these assumptions, in fact, that I will cover my eyes and plug my ears and say "That's an exception!" every time a cop is acquitted or the killing fails to be reported at all. Why? Because it's not my community that's being effected. I still feel safe, because no one I know well is at risk, and I still have my 911 safety net.
I think this perspective is where a lot of people I know are coming from. I encourage these individuals to stop worrying so much about whether or not Michael Brown was an exemplary citizen--it just doesn't matter at this point. What does matter is what system you're supporting. It's time to think critically.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Engineering with Barbie: Two Steps Forward, Five Leaps Back
When I wrote my last post, I didn't have much of an idea of what this blog might consist of. I only knew that I kind of missed writing things. Yesterday, I made a commitment to Jeff (my boyfriend whose name will likely come up a lot on here because he's a pretty central character in my life) that I would start posting at least once a week. I read a lot of articles that I find interesting--often they're about feminism, or population growth, or poverty, or climate change, or totally unrelated things--and I have a lot to say about them, and I usually just don't say anything about them.
This blog is me, taking a stand for saying things when I have things to say! Isn't that cool? If you don't know me, maybe not. I don't know. Anyways, I just read something that I thought was awesomely terrible, and I thought that would be a great place to start.
Barbie.
When I was a kid, my mom wouldn't let me have Barbie dolls, and she was a mean and terrible person for it. They had the coolest clothes and accessories, and I didn't understand her rationale at all. She told me that she thought that Barbies promoted unrealistic ideas of what women's bodies should look like, but as a 5-year-old I had no idea what a woman's body should look like, so I was pretty lost by that logic.
As a 24-year-old feminist who has had a normal share of body issues (really, does any female get through adolescence without any? Honest question), I get where she was coming from. I think Barbie's proportions are ridiculous, and the pink-and-girly theme is over the top and obnoxious, and I hate the way it shamelessly caters to ONLY GIRLS, such that any boy who might be interested in the vast fashion options or other themed toy options associated with the line is quickly shamed. Still, I do remember how appealing the toys were when I was a child, and I try to remember how few of the insidious messages that they send were actually absorbed when I played with them at friends' houses. I try to keep things in perspective.
So when I saw (yet another) alarmist headline about how terrible and misogynistic this Barbie book is, I was expecting it to be a gross exaggeration. The book is called, after all, "I Can Be A Computer Engineer." That's pretty inspiring to young girls interested in pursuing STEM fields, right? The girly, popular idol can also be brainy and successful?
This post is getting longer than I intended very quickly, so I'm going to try to wrap it up. Here are my main issues with this book:
This blog is me, taking a stand for saying things when I have things to say! Isn't that cool? If you don't know me, maybe not. I don't know. Anyways, I just read something that I thought was awesomely terrible, and I thought that would be a great place to start.
Barbie.
When I was a kid, my mom wouldn't let me have Barbie dolls, and she was a mean and terrible person for it. They had the coolest clothes and accessories, and I didn't understand her rationale at all. She told me that she thought that Barbies promoted unrealistic ideas of what women's bodies should look like, but as a 5-year-old I had no idea what a woman's body should look like, so I was pretty lost by that logic.
As a 24-year-old feminist who has had a normal share of body issues (really, does any female get through adolescence without any? Honest question), I get where she was coming from. I think Barbie's proportions are ridiculous, and the pink-and-girly theme is over the top and obnoxious, and I hate the way it shamelessly caters to ONLY GIRLS, such that any boy who might be interested in the vast fashion options or other themed toy options associated with the line is quickly shamed. Still, I do remember how appealing the toys were when I was a child, and I try to remember how few of the insidious messages that they send were actually absorbed when I played with them at friends' houses. I try to keep things in perspective.
So when I saw (yet another) alarmist headline about how terrible and misogynistic this Barbie book is, I was expecting it to be a gross exaggeration. The book is called, after all, "I Can Be A Computer Engineer." That's pretty inspiring to young girls interested in pursuing STEM fields, right? The girly, popular idol can also be brainy and successful?
Okay! Pretty cool! She's making her own game! Granted, she's all in pink, in the kitchen, eating yogurt, but it's a great start. Way to go!
...Oh. I see.
But don't worry! It gets better! Right after this, she talks about how she always makes sure to back up her work. That necklace she's wearing (the pink heart, because that's what girls like) is actually a USB drive. She plugs is in...
...and it crashes her computer. Then she plugs it into her sister's computer, and it crashes hers. She goes to school and asks her teacher for advice, and then gets boys to help her carry out the instructions. THEN, she takes all the credit for having the advice work out. Steven and Brian save Barbie's and Skipper's computers, Barbie gets all the credit, Skipper gives a presentation about how much she admires Barbie as an older sister, and Barbie gets extra credit because her puppy game (that Steven and Brian made) turned out so well.
I know, right?
Barbie put out an apology for this book because of all the scathing reviews it got. Here are a few of my favorites from Amazon:
This post is getting longer than I intended very quickly, so I'm going to try to wrap it up. Here are my main issues with this book:
- Barbie, as portrayed in this book, absolutely cannot be a computer engineer, and shows no desire to be. She barely touches a computer. She does not apply herself in any way to computing. The title is misleading.
- Barbie receives nothing but praise even though she bumbles, manipulates, and cheats her way through the book. She does nothing praiseworthy throughout the whole thing, but to a child reading the book, that would not come across at all. If I were four years old and reading this book, I would not identify that she had done anything wrong because no one reacts like she does anything wrong.
- Women in the tech industry struggle every day with having their hard work and intellect ignored because of their female status. This book supports women being treated as intellectually inferior, less capable, and lacking in drive--as long as they are rewarded in the end for whatever product they stamp their name on. Given how many women work hard every day and are still treated like their efforts are worthless, this is maddening.
- Is it really so important that EVERYTHING be pink?
That last point wasn't the most important; I just wanted to end on a lighter note. And with that, I leave you. Until next time.
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Initiating a new blog is always awkward
Let's get it over with.
This is my third blog in...four years? The first was focused on my study abroad experience in Dakar, Senegal while I was a junior at Kalamazoo College. The second documented my internship two summers ago while I was working with a nonprofit organization called Nav Bharat Jagriti Kendra (try saying that five times fast) in Hazaribag, Jharkhand, India for three months.
Now I'm not doing anything so exotic. Or at least not yet. I'm embarking on a doctoral program in evaluation. It's a pretty cool program because it's interdisciplinary, so I can maintain my focus on international development while still learning the theory and practice of evaluation at the doctoral level. I am also fortunate enough to be funded through an associateship, so I have research opportunities that allow me to get some hands-on experience while I'm studying. This also means that my tuition is paid, I'm getting paid, and I get a cute little office that comes complete with an officemate who knows his way around much better than I do.
It's not unlikely that in the next few years I will get to travel overseas at least a few times to work on projects, so the "(Possibly Mundane)" part of the title of this blog might not *always* be the case. In the meantime, my life mostly consists of a lot of reading.
I'll see how well I do at keeping this blog updated before I share the link. I'm not ready to commit yet. :P
This is my third blog in...four years? The first was focused on my study abroad experience in Dakar, Senegal while I was a junior at Kalamazoo College. The second documented my internship two summers ago while I was working with a nonprofit organization called Nav Bharat Jagriti Kendra (try saying that five times fast) in Hazaribag, Jharkhand, India for three months.
Now I'm not doing anything so exotic. Or at least not yet. I'm embarking on a doctoral program in evaluation. It's a pretty cool program because it's interdisciplinary, so I can maintain my focus on international development while still learning the theory and practice of evaluation at the doctoral level. I am also fortunate enough to be funded through an associateship, so I have research opportunities that allow me to get some hands-on experience while I'm studying. This also means that my tuition is paid, I'm getting paid, and I get a cute little office that comes complete with an officemate who knows his way around much better than I do.
It's not unlikely that in the next few years I will get to travel overseas at least a few times to work on projects, so the "(Possibly Mundane)" part of the title of this blog might not *always* be the case. In the meantime, my life mostly consists of a lot of reading.
I'll see how well I do at keeping this blog updated before I share the link. I'm not ready to commit yet. :P
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