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Personal

on unsolicited compliments, and how little girls should respond to them

September 4, 2016 by krisis

I’ve written about the difference between me getting an unsolicited compliment and EV getting one, and about how she is not a princess.

What those two situations – and posts – have in common is me responding on EV’s behalf, which has been my habit since she was pre-verbal continuing through the typical two-year-old stranger-danger shyness. If someone reduced her to a pretty girl or a princess, I got the claws out.

Now I’m the parent of a three-year-old who is much more attentive to the sorts of responses I dole out, and who sometimes wants to respond (or, emphatically not respond) on her own … and I’m not sure what to do. It’s one of the few situations where I find that the difference in EV and my genders is making me unsure of my parenting decisions.

2016-08-17 12.17.26That’s a big deal for me. E and I were just discussing how relatively neutral our parenting style is when it comes to gender. Aside from wearing a bathing top at the pool and some undefinable level of unconscious bias, I don’t think EV has experiencing a remarkable different toddlerdom in this household than a boy would.

We restrict certain tough play and violence, just as we would from a boy. Aside from screening out toxic princess culture, it’s not as though we’re hiding anything coded explicitly for girls from her. E and I even present a relatively similar role to EV – she’s seen both of us do most chores and caretaking tasks. We both have fancy colored hair.

I’d say the big differences are that E will put her in dresses more often and is better at painting nails than I am.

Yet, this little issue of how (if at all) EV ought to respond to unsolicited compliments has stopped me in my tracks, while E has no hesitation contending with it.

I generally respond to any remark directed my way from a stranger so long as they aren’t physically threatening, whether it’s meant positively or negatively. That’s a hard-won ease for me, rather than a chauvinistic obliviousness. I went a long time assuming any comment I received would be a mocking one. I’ve been harassed from passing cars just for walking down the street and threatened with violence because I “talk gay.” I was a strident teen, but it took two more decades for me to own my self-image enough to withstand that. Luckily, society changed a bit, too. Now I look and talk however the hell I want with no apology.

However, none of my experiences compare to the near-constant sexualization every woman fields from every comment, whether its complimentary or mocking, no matter the gender of the commenter. And, while I’ve been threatened with physical violence, I’ve rarely if ever had to walk down the street with the specter of sexual violence haunting my steps.

That’s what I find myself up against when EV receives a comment from a stranger.

The first few times, I encouraged her to say “hi” in return or “thank you.” I immediately sensed the dissonance there and the bad precedent I was setting. No one deserves EV’s attention just for talking to her. She might develop a social contract that dictates reciprocity with someone she sees frequently, but she owes nothing to strangers.

Yet, I also don’t want to encourage EV to simply passively absorb these opinions. If one of them makes her feel positive or negative, she should be vocal about that. If she doesn’t care, she should ignore them.

Last week presented a pair of examples in a span of hours.

First, at the library, a pair of young black women were sitting across from us at the library while EV carefully fussed over a book and I filled out our card applications. After observing us for a minute and laughing to themselves, they both complimented EV – one to me, and the other to EV directly. I thanked and chatted the woman who spoke to me. EV didn’t respond to the other one. She seemed for a moment as if she might press it with EV, but then let it go.

That felt fine to me. The second example didn’t. We were at a home improvement store, coincidentally being helped by another young black woman. She had been with us for several minutes, and had chatted with EV about the projects we were doing without making any comments about her appearance. When we hit a snag in my shopping, she asked an older, white, male co-worker. He answered her in an annoyed, condescending way, and then turned his eye to EV.

“Aren’t you a cutie?” he said to her.

She ignored him.

“Aww, are you a little shy?”

I was only halfway absorbing this, as I was having my own conversation with the woman, who seemed slightly cowed by her coworker’s rude response. I don’t think EV was being especially shy. She was doing a silly dance in the middle of the plumbing aisle. It seemed obvious that she simply wasn’t interesting in engaging.

Yet, the man kept talking to her in an insistent, insincerely cloying way, pressing her from all angles to respond with increasing annoyance. At this point, I was tuned in.

“What did you do this summer? Did you go to the beach? Did you make castles? Did you bury dad in the sand? Huh, did you?”

I spent an agonizing hour on post-game analysis with E last week. Why didn’t I say anything? Why didn’t I indicate to EV she shouldn’t feel the need to answer?

I know what a sincere interest in my kid looks like from a speaker of any gender presentation. Not only have I learned to see it, but whether or not EV responds she always remembers the sincere people and brings them up later. This was not that. Maybe this guy was a father of daughters of his own, but he was also probably going to make a comment about the ass of the next women who walked down the aisle as soon as she was out of earshot. I could just feel it. (And, it’s borne itself out in the following days with no remarks from EV about the conversation.)

EV’s instincts were better than mine in that moment: she was absolutely right to keep on doing her silly dance and completely ignore this guy. But the point is she shouldn’t have had to.

That doesn’t just apply to leering older gentlemen. It’s for kind young women at the library, doting teens at the pool, and every other human being who wants to ascribe value to EV’s appearance and then tell her about it and then stand there expecting something in return.

She owes them nothing, and while she seems to already sense that on her own, it’s one good choice I’m not sure how to model and reinforce.

Filed Under: thoughts, Year 17 Tagged With: parenting

the unglamorous life

August 30, 2016 by krisis

I am writing this missive to you from a park bench at a playground, purple and pink hair half up in a messy bun, wearing a too-large Lisa Loeb t-shirt with an unidentifiable stain on the breast, a pair of gym shorts, and a pair of sunglasses dangling from a strap on my neck so I can see the screen.

I have gone “full dad,” as they say. No, this post will not be illustrated by any photos. Whatever you are imagining is bad enough.

There was a time when I had rules about leaving the house. The dress code was strict. I had a “t-shirts permitted in public” drawer that was kept untainted by over-large band shirts I wear to bum around the house. Dress pants or jeans were the only acceptable bottoms; I would only show my bare legs in a casual setting if the temperature was over 90°. Athletic wear? Only for actual instances of exercise. And certainly not any low rise socks that show my ankles. Offensive.

Hair was to be either spectacularly curly or wrapped up in a bandana. Facial scruff had an allowable limit As for a sunglasses strap … just no.

As dress codes go, I think it was stricter than a school’s but maybe not as hardcore as a religion’s. (I do make frequent exceptions to fetch our mail in my underwear, after all).

Well, it took three years, but toddler wrangling has worn me down. All the time I used to spend on choosing and preening is now spent dressing a toddler, making sure she has juice and a head band and a snack and a change of clothes, and maybe making sure her shoes are on the right feet if time allows.

Me? Again, I’ll point out that I willingly left the house in GYM SHORTS. Yet, I also carry a 20lb bag of toddler accessories including our own toilet paper in case we find the TP on our adventures to be unsatisfactory.

(Philly TP report: Philly Zoo, thumbs down. Longwood Garden, thumbs up!)

I think a large part of it has to do with the weather. Heat wears me down. After serving four years in inescapable heat as a summer camp counselor, I spent the next half of my life scurrying for cover (or a pool) on every hot day. I want none of it – not the sweat, not the sunscreen, not the bugs. I don’t have room in my brain to process all of those annoyances.

(I can’t even tell you a time prior to this summer I willingly wore sunscreen not for the purpose of going to a pool or on a long walk. Maybe Bonnaroo? And, if you recall, I was asking to be airlifted out of that by the second day.)

I knew when I made the choice to stay home that one of the biggest challenges would be keeping things interesting in the hot weather. My mandate to create great memories aside, a toddler’s manic wiggles don’t miraculously evaporate in the heat and humidity any more than they do in the frigid cold.

And apparently my coping mechanism is “not giving a fuck.”

Filed Under: thoughts Tagged With: parenting

Fandom, sources, subjective truth, and the Lee/Kirby X-Men Omnibus variant cover

August 28, 2016 by krisis

I won’t bury the lede: the variant edition of the Stan Lee / Jack Kirby classic X-Men Omnibus, Vol. 1 is the Kirby cover.

X-Men Omnibus Vol. 1 by Lee Kirby variant kirby classic cover

This is the variant cover. Don’t trust me – read the third section of this post for proof.

By the way, that was the answer to life, the universe, and everything. It’s turns out it’s not 42 – it’s that the X-Men Omnibus, Vol. 1 direct market variant is the Kirby cover.

How and why I’m making a blog post to answer that question is more interesting than the question or the answer.

When it comes to fandom on the internet, it’s assumed that everyone is working from the same primary source – the material they’re all fanning over.

Since everyone is consuming the same thing, deliberate misinformation would be obvious. Thus, information doesn’t tend to be questioned as it spreads across hundreds of blogs, wikis, lyric sites, comic databases, etc – and, none of those sites ever state their sources, because the source is assumed to be the actual material.

There is a problem with that assumption. Sometimes the source is the material, but sometimes it’s just the whisper down the lane from other secondary sources. Sometimes the source is the material, but it’s being interpreted incorrectly.

There is a lot of room for error without any malicious intent to spread disinformation, and without even the tacit citations of Wikipedia you’ll ever know the providence of the information you’re consuming. Due to ouroboros-like nature of the internet, one slight discrepancy introduced into the system will make the rounds, continuing a feedback loop until a little piece of misinformation swells to prohibitive truth – determining the outcome of arguments and dictating the sale price for rare memorabilia.

Fans like to pretend they’re experts, but a lot of times they’re just another parroting back the feedback. I’ve encountered three examples in the past week, and even with my pseudo-scholarly approach to being a fan I managed to be the parrot one time.

What happens when one of these pieces of information actually matters and the echo chamber is the only possible source? You don’t have to look far to find out – it happens every day. News networks pick up parody articles as truth! People cite statistics that aren’t real! The AP makes up tons of stuff and people take it at face value because, you know, AP. And those are journalists.

It makes me worry that as we put more of our consciousnesses and knowledge into the vast matrix of the internet, the concept of “truth” is becoming increasingly subjective.

Fair warning: the first section of below uses a sometimes derogatory word for vagina twice in the context of quotes about the lyrics to a song. We should not be afraid of words, only what people mean by them. Say it sometime. [Read more…] about Fandom, sources, subjective truth, and the Lee/Kirby X-Men Omnibus variant cover

Filed Under: comic books, essays Tagged With: Amanda Palmer, Collected Editions, Dresden Dolls, Jack Kirby, X-Men

happy birthday to this

August 26, 2016 by krisis

2015-09-16 19.03.59

On a walk with EV last September.

I – Zina

I am playing a show with my cover band tonight in a bar that is just up the road from my house.

This is not an unusual event. We’ve maintained a steady flow of roughly bi-monthly shows for several years now, and with them we’ve developed a rehearsed rhythm of preparation, load-in, set-up, and breakdown.

The remarkable part of tonight is that it will be my last regular appearance alongside our brilliant drummer Zina for the foreseeable future. I’ve been in three different bands with her since 2010. I’ve reached the point that it’s fait accompli for me to assume any new song I write or learn will make its way to her sticks.

In the days before I met Zina, my guitar playing frequently lacked a tangible rhythm. You couldn’t feel the emphasized beats within my strumming. There was no pulse. At my best, I was writing syncopated song with room for more arrangement within. At my worst (much of which is still creeping around in old posts here), it sounded like I was playing in free time because I never quite complete a measure, so hurried was I to move from each chord to the next.

Zina helped me define the space in my playing – space filled with rhythm, but also space filled with silence. Now I can even find that space when I’m playing on my own.

2015-10-01 16.02.44

Hosting RJ’s client event in SF in October.

I am not sad about the show or about Zina leaving the way I was last year when she first broached the subject of her eventual departure. I’m thrilled for her to move on to a new city and new opportunities, but that’s not the only reason I’m not despairing. I’ve learned to accept and adapt to change in this past year like never before. I know that nothing good ever lasts forever, but now I understand that some other good always follows.

In fact, compared to one, five, or ten years ago, the only aspects of my life that have remained constant throughout are playing music, being in a relationship with E, and writing here at Crushing Krisis – as I have been for the past sixteen years as of today, its anniversary. [Read more…] about happy birthday to this

Filed Under: august 26th, Year 16

two zoos in two days (and one terrifying capybara)

July 21, 2016 by krisis

E’s sister Jenny has stayed with us many times since we’ve lived in this house and they’ve all been pretty boring.

This is completely paradoxical, as Jenny is a professional museumologist (I should probably ask her what the real word is) and world traveller who loves nothing more than a zoo – or, even a safari (the non-violent kind). Both time I’ve visited her in California have been filled with an assortment of jogging, yoga, movies, dinners, and museums. Yet, E and I are usually exhausted from work and willing to be the ultimate homebodies, so having Jenny stay with us in Philly tends to turn into a lot of lying on the floor and watching Netflix all day. I’m pretty sure we’ve literally done nothing with her on any occasion of her staying here other than leave the house to get food.

Of course, now there is an EV in the equation – we can’t lie on the floor and watch Netflix all day because (a) she isn’t permitted to watch TV and (b) she would spend the entire time walking all over us. Also, (c), you have to feed her something other than tea and cereal. Plus, sitting around the house all day is a little less attractive when you have every day off from work because you quit your job to hang out with a toddler.

Thus, for this Jenny-cation I swore that we’d do some adventuring together with EV. I didn’t intend for that to be entirely crammed into a single 48hr period, but this week’s excessive heat left us with a small window into which we had to cram all of our outdoor action.

2016-06-15 11.30.23We wound up doing two zoos in two days, and despite hitting various zoos over a half a dozen times in my 10 weeks of toddler concierge service, these past two days were some of the most fun. Jenny provided some much-appreciated tag-teaming, knows a seemingly endless amount of animal facts, facilitated thoughtful engagement with the elements of instructional design that I normally ignore, and even figured out that we got a massive discount at one zoo due to being members of the other one.

Due to Jenny’s zoo obsession and world-traveling habits, it is really hard to find an animal she has never seen before or an animal experience that is completely unique for her, so I pride myself that we were able to tick both boxes yesterday at the Elmwood Park Zoo.

First, there is the peccary, also known as “the skunk pig.” They are the weirdest thing. It’s a slender pig on high, spindly legs with a coat of bristly fur that is nearly reminiscent of a porcupine. When I was first researching Elmwood Park with Mother of Krisis for a visit last month, I was sure that the peccary’s entry on their site was an overripe April Fool’s joke – surely this oddball thing wasn’t an actual animal!

Not only is it actual, but Jenny had never seen one before. They’re honestly not all that exciting to look at, but their slightly ominous, Lord of the Flies dead-eye gaze in photos doesn’t really portray how ridiculous they look in person as they shuffle around to dig in the dirt with their snouts.

2016-07-20 14.12.40In addition to introducing Jenny to peccaries, we also got closer to a capybara than either of us had even been before. Due to it carefully balancing itself on the edge of its tiny, artificial lakeland home, we were barely an arm’s length away from the creature, and I return to inform you that as the largest rodents in the world capybaras are fucking terrifying.

Like, sure, from afar when they are napping (which is pretty much ALWAYS in my experience) they look like a cute, pillow-sized guinea pig hamster sort of thing that you could snuggle at night, but when you are up close you realize they are a rodent that half as big as you and as solid as a bulldog and they do all of those twitchy little rodent things you’ve seen a hamster do except at about ten times the scale.

That little nose-wrinkle that is so adorable when held in the palm of your hand? When you see it magnified 10x by something that could probably chomp clean through your arm it activates base fight-or-flight instincts in your subconscious lizard brain. They are downright disturbing. It occupies a sort of uncanny valley of unreality that, combined with my terror, made it a struggle to keep my eyes affixed on it for more than a few seconds at a time.

Jenny is with us for a few more days and I’m sure she’ll create many more memories with EV, but for me it will be hard to top that wild kingdom double-whammy on this trip – plus, it gives me something to try to top for the next time she’s in town, and we all know there’s no one I am more competitive with than myself.

Filed Under: memories

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