*warning- triggers*

I don’t know why infographics are bugging me so much lately. They’ve been around for a while and they’ve never captured my attention for more than about four seconds. But last week one posted by, of all people, First Book got me going. The misleading use of statistics is something that has bothered me since I completed my undergrad degree in psychology. And infographics are often chock full of bodgy statistics. I really should just ignore them. But I care about literacy and poverty so last week’s infographic warranted a post. You know what else I care about? Women’s Rights.

Take a look at this infographic from WORD, which they posted on their Facebook. Study it for a few minutes. Take your time. I’ll be here.

So this infographic includes a range of statistics relevant to the rights of women, beginning with women at work and wage disparity, with particular focus on the even greater disparities facing women of color. Yep, fine. I’m familiar with these statistics – nothing too surprising.  As someone who works at home, I cringed on being reminded of the ubiquity of workplace sexual harassment though. Glad to be away from that.

Next there’s some stuff about poverty. Again, nothing that surprising. I didn’t know the poverty numbers were “the highest in 17 years” though. Not really shocked to hear it, but still, that sucks.

Then violence. One in four women will be the victim of domestic violence, one in five will be raped. Horrible statistics, nightmarish, but ones I’m well aware of.

Then I came along to this:

Well, I confess, this one made me go “huh?” Quite apart from the hideous graphic of a man beating a woman, this statistic – 45% of hate murders against transwomen – seemed bizarrely implausible. Not because hate crimes against transgender people are rare exactly;  they aren’t in the sense that if you are trans then you are more likely to be a victim of a hate crime than some other typically targeted groups. But I know there is quite a lot of hate crime in the USA. And a lot of target groups. And proportionally there are far fewer transsexuals than another frequently targeted group: male homosexuals (advocate groups estimate a 1/200 prevalence of male to female transexxualism, and about 1/10 for male homosexuality. These are the most generous estimates, and certainly not free from criticism), not mention African American or Hispanic groups.

So I started to look at the statistics. Again, I ran into the problem that this infographic does not cite its sources. I had to try to find supporting statistics myself. So I started with the FBI statistical database on Hate Crime, where I discovered to my disappointment that it looks like the FBI does not differentiate between transsexuals and homosexuals. Nevertheless, the FBI statistics quickly repudiated the infographic because according to their statistics only 20.8% of hate crimes were motivated by sexual orientation bias. So I’m thinking, where is this 45% coming from? Maybe it’s a small mistake. Maybe 45% of hate crimes motivated by sexual orientation are against transwomen. As I said the FBI doesn’t break down their data this way, so I had no way of checking.

Then I realized the infographic said “hate murders” not “hate crimes”. Ah, I thought. Maybe this is where the figure comes from. It makes a certain depressing logic that transwomen, if they are victimized in any hate crime, it is likely to be murder. But the FBI tells me there was a total of FOUR hate murders in 2011. That’s four too many of course, but still – how do you get 45% of 4? So now I’m wondering where on earth this number came from, and it bugs me, because it calls into question ALL the statistics on this graphic. That’s just how my mind works. Is it based on the numbers over several years? What years? Are they basing it on some other research and coming up with a wildly divergent figure?

So I stare at the number again. And stare at it. And stare. And then I ask myself what seems to be pretty obvious question: why does a graphic about women’s right’s include a statistic that no matter how you look at it represents a very small number of incidents? Not that transwomen don’t belong in a chart about women’s rights – of course they do. They’re women. But when we’re talking about literally MILLIONS of victims of sexual harassment per year, millions of victims of domestic violence and rape what is the motivation for including perhaps TWO victims of hate murder?

So I’m wondering whether it was a way to get murder onto this chart in a way that supports the overall thesis about the continuing struggle for women’s rights. 45% is an impressive percentage I guess, and assigned to relatively small group of transwomen creates the suggestion that there is something horrible  going on, but wouldn’t the nearly 3000 women murdered per year in the USA be impressive enough? Maybe not in comparison to the over 10,000 men. “23% of murder victims are women” sounds almost like a win for women’s rights in a sick way. If murder could ever be a win. And it can’t.

So maybe the creator of this graphic included this perplexing statistic as the only way to get the word “murder” on it without revealing that in fact men are four or five times more likely to be murdered in the USA. It’s a bit half baked, but I could see that happening. I just don’t know. At this point I’m pretty much ready to give up. I  don’t get it. It bugs me but it’s not the end of the world. I should just let it go. Then I think of something.

Rape is a hate crime.

Rape is  hate crime. Rape/murder is a hate crime. We are constantly told that rape is a crime of anger and violence, of HATE, not of sexual desire. Certainly in the case of rape-murders this has got to be true. And get this – nearly 100% of victims of rape murders are women. About 90-95% of rape victims are women. Some rape victims end up dead. The overwhelming majority of those are women. And the perpetrator kills them because he hates women.

And yet, according to the FBI only seven, not seven percent, SEVEN “hate rapes” occurred in 2010. Excuse me? With very few exceptions (loving consensual sex between a 17 year old and a 21 year old for example, which in some states is prosecuted as statutory rape) ALL RAPES ARE HATE RAPES. And certainly all rapes that end in murder.

Rape is a hate crime! If rape was defined as a hate crime then the chart could furiously declare that “90% of victims of hate rape are women.”

According to US law the categories for the motivation for hate crime include race, religion, nation origin  actual or perceived gender, gender identity, sexual orientation, and disability. ACTUAL OR PERCEIVED GENDER, people. Many rapes occur because the rapist hates women. Therefore…yeah, you get it.

I get how political this is. I really do. The very concept of “Hate Crime” exists to address criminal animosity towards marginalized groups. The groups targeted, according to the FBI, are mostly minority groups. In 2011, of hate crimes:

• 46.9 percent were racially motivated (although “16.7% of incidents were motivated by anti-white bias”).
• 20.8 percent resulted from sexual-orientation bias.
• 19.8 percent were motivated by religious bias.
• 11.6 percent stemmed from ethnicity/national origin bias.
• Less than 1 percent (0.9) were prompted by disability bias.

Notice anything missing? Despite “gender” being included in the statute, no hate crimes motivated by gender are recorded. Are you trying to tell me that of 80,000+ reported forcible rapes in 2011 (at best probably half the actual number), not one perpetrator scrawled “slut” or “bitch” on the wall? Or worse things? That when “slut” or “bitch” is scrawled on lockers, windscreens or front doors, this should not be prosecuted as a hate crime?

It’s almost as though the FBI doesn’t consider women a marginalized group.  And here it’s important to understand the difference between minority and marginalized.  I’ll tell you why. Because  groups can be marginalized even when they are in the majority. Ask black South Africans for example. Women are a marginalized group, so marginalized that we’ve even been pushed out of the targets of hate crime club. So much that hate crimes aimed at WHITE MEN make the list before rape does.

Were even those seven “hate rapes” racially motivated I wonder. Do the police even bother considering that a man raping a women of another race might be motivated by hate for her race? Cross racial rapes are quite rare, but they are out there, in the thousands. About 15-20% of forcible rapes or sexual assaults are committed by someone of another race than the victim. This translates to maybe 15,000 rapes or sexual assaults. Surely SOME of those were motivated by racial bias? All of them were motivated by gender bias of course, but I’m ready to give that up. Throw me a bone here, FBI. SEVEN hate rapes? You’ve got to be kidding me.

It just seems wrong. It seems to imply that kicking over a tombstone or vandalizing a church is a worse crime than rape. I’m sorry but it’s just not. The Orangemen could kick over every tombstone in Belfast and I still wouldn’t care as much as if they raped one Catholic girl. Or a Protestant  girl. Or any girl or woman, regardless of their motivation.

The marginalization of women is so deeply ingrained that it crosses all cultural groups, has existed pretty much since the beginning of recorded history and forms a vital part almost all religious organizations, as well as military organizations, who together by the way, control the entire world. And just as a black US president doesn’t mean racism is over, a few female prime ministers doesn’t mean the women’s movement can rest on its laurels. Not yet.

If everything on the infographic that started this all is true (and I think it is, apart from the 45% thing which I still don’t quite understand) then clearly women are still a marginalized group. Why then are hateful crimes against us not called “hate crimes”?

There’s an answer out there, but it’s so complicated and delicate that I don’t dare even try. I’ve finally been undone. That’s something.

Rant over.

I don’t normally like to give books bad reviews. And in truth I actually enjoyed A BAD BOY CAN BE GOOD FOR A GIRL by Tanya Lee Stone on some levels. The tight lean verse, the pacey plot, the straightforward characterization all made it a fun, if frustrating read.

Here’s the thing, the “villain” in this book, known only as T.L. is not only painted as the worst kind of jerk, but part of the premise is that he’s slandered mercilessly in a public forum, even bullied. Worse, the book seems to celebrate its heroines and their plucky vengefulness on T.L. There is even an invitation in the afterward to “get together with your friends…to spread the word” about boys who: “kiss and tell”, “not call after the second date”, “flirt with other girls” etc. Remember we are talking about 15, 16 or 17 year old boys here.

T.L in this book does three things judged as wrong.

1. He dates an inexperienced girl and tries to get her to have sex with him. She is well aware from the start that this is his goal and goes along with it anyway. He’s sweet and generous to her in pursuit of his goal, but makes no secret of it. When it becomes clear that sex is not happening, he breaks things off and moves on with no ill will towards her.

2. He dates and beds a girl, who by her own estimation is a pretty easy mark, and likes to play the field herself. She reads more into the relationship than he does, and when she hears of him pursuing another girl, loudly castigates him in public, ending their liaison.

3. He dates a “nice” girl, also making concerted and eventually successful efforts to get her into the sack. When she declares her love for him, he panics and wants to cool off, at which time she gives him the flick he no doubt deserves for being an emotional featherweight.

My feeling is that none of these things is technically wrong or even mean. T. L. is a bit shallow, yes, and he clearly likes sex, and wants to have it with as many girls as possible, but since when is that a crime? In the interests of vindicating poor T.L I’d like to point out what he did right:

With girl #1, Josie, he woos her quite sweetly, taking her places, showing affection at school and in front of his friends and making her feel attractive and wanted. Yeah he cools off around his friends, but so does she. He makes his desire for sex very clear

“Baby please don’t make me wait anymore.

I don’t think I can stand it”

Later when things get hot he’s not only clear about his desire, but open to hearing about hers.

“Tell me what you want” he says.

And then:

I open my eyes for a second

And catch him looking at me

Like he’s waiting for me to give him

The go-ahead

Which she does. He doesn’t have to be reminded to use a condom, and he comes prepared:

 He rolls off me for a second

I hear the crackle of a wrapper tearing open

And finally, moments, literal SECONDS before penetration when Josie says

“WAIT!”

He waits. He stops. And yeah, he’s pissed with her, but why shouldn’t he be? One of the ways T.L. is maligned in this book is that he “leads girls on”. But didn’t Josie lead him on in this scene? Why is his clearly stated desire for sex any less acceptable than her desire for the status of a senior boyfriend? Than her desire for some kind of emotional booster seat for a rather immature girl? Are her superficial desires any less selfish than his?

Let’s review: he woos her, he entertains her, he makes his desires clear, he looks for (and gets) enthusiastic consent, he comes prepared and he stops when she says stop.

And this is a BAD boy?

With girl #2, Nicolette, T.L. is again very clear, even clearer in fact, that all he wants from her is sex. And she complies pretty happily – she admits from the get go that she enjoys sex. So is T.L. a selfish lover? No. In fact when he politely asks for oral sex, and she cheerfully complies, HE RETURNS THE FAVOR! Hello? Do you or any girl reading this book know how rare it is for a teenage boy to bother with this? When they proceed to intercourse, I think, I’m not sure, but it’s implied that he makes her come! Hello, what?

So lets’ review: generous and enthusiastic lover? Check. Clear about his intentions? Check. Did he lead her on? She thinks he did but he did not. Check.

Uh, where is the bad boy?

Finally, girl #3,  Aviva. T.L might actually like her, and in this chapter we get a little hint about his backstory, that he’s had his heart broken by a girl called Ashley.  When one of T.L.’s friend trash talks Aviva, T.L. tells him to shut up. But maybe my favorite thing T.L. does in this whole book is this. When he gets Aviva alone, in a situation where it’s clear that sex is on the cards:

He smiles at me

“You’re sure you’re ready?”

“Uh huh,” I mumble, “just kiss me.”

So he does, and they have sex AFTER he looks for (and gets) her consent.

T.L. is a handsome popular, relatively nicely mannered teenage boy who loves sex and wants it with lots of girls. So? Not once in the book is it suggested that he’s a stalker jealous type, he doesn’t watch girls sleep, beat up their male friends, tell them how to act or dress (he does ask Nicolette to wear a skirt because he wants to fuck her in it. Nothing wrong with that), what to eat or where to go. He’s not jealous or controlling. He’s not pathetic, needy or emotionally manipulative. Compare him Edward Cullen, Patch the fallen angel (does he HAVE a last name?) or Linden the bigamist pedophile and he’s practically the perfect guy. But not only is he called a “bad boy” , he is bullied and slandered IN WRITING by dozens of girls for doing things in which by their own admission they were ALL (bar one, who suggests he badgered her until she agreed to kiss him. Big deal) enthusiastic participants.

I don’t like to slut shame, and I wouldn’t if these fictional girls would just shut up and let T.L. get on with his salaciously sordid sex life. There is no suggestion that any of them were forced or coerced or even unduly pressured. He kisses and tells, yes, but hello these girls are kissing and telling IN WRITING with every intention of ruining his reputation. Double standard?

I know these aren’t real girls. I know this is just a story, but the gist of it is – THESE GIRLS ARE PORTRAYED AS STOOOPID! Mind numbingly stupid, shallow morons who can’t see the forest for the trees. And we are supposed to ….what? Feel sorry for them? Celebrate their ethically and legally questionable revenge? Aspire to be like them?

Really? Aspire to be stupid, over-sexed girls who are too uptight, repressed or deluded to actually see to their own sexual needs without having some sort of twisted romantic fantasy piled on top of it? Aspire to be so easily seduced despite being warned (they are ALL warned about T.L) and so weak of spirit that a handsome boy can hurt them even though none of them really know him well enough to truly care for him?

But worse than stupid, they are mean, bitter and vengeful, needing to hurt someone just to repair their own overly fragile egos. Sisterhood? This is everything that is wrong with female friendship. If one of these girls was my friend I would say “bitch, I TOLD you so,” shag T.L. senseless myself, then get back to my kick-ass world saving, whatever that was (it was nuclear disarmament for me).

Good for a girl? These girls aren’t improved by their run-ins with T.L. They are turned into whiney bitches who need to get a life. No, I won’t join their entitled little club. I’ve been used, lied to, cheated on and dumped. I don’t blame any of those boys. It is what it is. None of those things is a crime. And besides that, I’ve got shit I need to do. I’ve got PLANS.

There are rape gangs roaming the streets of Mexico, ladies, and the buses of Delhi. Never mind the epidemic of rape and non-consensual sexual contact in American high schools and colleges.  And please don’t conflate a teenage boy’s enthusiastic and candid pursuit of consensual, safe and mutually enjoyable sex with rape. T. L. is not a rapist. Even if left to pursue sex in his overt, yes slightly vulgar, but generally inoffensive way, he never will be. Get some perspective.

And T.L? Call me .

Buying a Christmas present for a child in need today (can I digress and say how hard it is to buy a present for a 12 year-old girl you have never met and know nothing about?) I discovered erasable pencils crayons. What wonders. Made me want to repost this rather depressing meditation on what it means to live up to your own standards (or not). Anyway…

Back in March, Jodi Meadows, the author of INCARNATE tweeted “Colored pencils should be easier to erase”. Now I know she meant “they should be easier to erase than they are”, because let’s face it, they are unholy hard to erase. But how I read it was “They should be easier to erase than regular lead pencils”. And I found that kind of profound. I tweeted her so, of course to which she replied “sage nod”.

So what is profound about that? It’s funny how sometimes a whole new universe of understanding can pop out of one little phrase. “Colored pencils should be easier to erase.” What my mind immediately jumped to was that they should be easier to erase than lead pencils because to use them suggests more of a commitment, represents more of a risk. Any schmuck can doodle with a lead pencil. We’ve all done it all over the margins of our math homework and on library tables. But colored pencils are a whole other thing. You’re not just doodling with colored pencils, you’re drawing.  There are more ways you can go wrong with a colored pencil. As anyone who has ever tried to draw with them knows, it’s hard, much harder than with a lead pencil. And mistakes are easily made, but not easily unmade. Where is the reward for the extra bravery it took to choose colored pencils in the first place? Those who venture into colored pencil land should be granted a couple of extra do-overs. Life is so unfair.

For some reason, today, this made me think of my short story, written in grade eleven, The Seventh Grade. As a rather lengthy aside I should point out that for those of you who are interested, this story can be found here, not only in the original English, but also translated into Chinese. How and why it was translated into Chinese and uploaded to the web is something of a mystery. Suffice it to say, I was never paid Chinese money  for this story, which I wrote in 1983, at least ten years before the Internet came into public use. Long story short, I think I’ve become a Chinese bootleg, like that Return of the King DVD my friend sent me from Hong Kong and my NOT Prada handbag.

Anyway, back to my story. Interestingly, to me anyway, this story was maybe the first thing I ever wrote that wasn’t in some way religious. In grade five I wrote this poem, for example:

Urgh.  I can’t go on. You get the idea. Then I wrote a short story about Jesus looking through a window and another one about dying and eternity, or something; it’s possible they were both the same story. I also wrote a sci-fi-ish kind of thing in which a human meets an alien on another planet and waxes poetic on the way home about being like Noah’s dove and how Columbus means dove and how Columbus discovered America and she had discovered another planet and so on. As you can see there was all kinds of wrongness in my education.

In grade eleven, in Mrs. Crooks’s creative writing class, I wrote a short one man play called Whatsoever You Do which is not exactly a bible quote, but is the title of a hymn based on a bible quote (Matthew 25:35-40 for anyone who is interested, or doubts my pedigree). Perhaps this was the last hurrah of a fading belief system because I’m almost certain The Seventh Grade, which has no religion allusions that I can remember, was what I wrote next.

Here’s what you should know about this: up to this point, no one, least of all me, had really thought that anything I wrote was any good. In fact several times I was told that things were not very good. Lots of things I never showed anyone. But for some reason, somewhere along the line, I got it into my head that I was going to enter a short story writing competition. I had, the previous year,  wanted to enter the one about Jesus looking through the window (I’m pretty sure it, and a similarly themed painting I did in art class, were inspired by a Pete Townsend song. I was a weird kid) but my teacher at the time told me, and I quote: “It’s not very good.”

Look, I’m sure she was right (this story did not survive the 80’s, much like my sisters purple, black and green Peter Pan boots which were stolen from me at a party, leading my friend Erich to have to carry me out to the car, leading me to fall in love with him, leading to a whole world of pain for me, him and his girlfriend, Rita). The story was probably crap, but “It’s not very good,” is hardly encouraging for a young writer who shows, if not exactly promise, then at least enthusiasm. But I overcame this minor setback, and armed with the things Mrs. Crooks taught me about conflict wrote The Seventh Grade and entered it into the province wide Permanent High School Short Story Contest.

Well, I won the contest. And that should have been a wonderful moment for me. My teachers were proud. The principal was proud. Hell, they announced it over the school PA. My parents were proud, and the prize was $500. In 1983, for a 16 year old girl with a fake ID, this was a lot of money. But it wasn’t a wonderful moment. It was a terrible moment, full of doubt and humiliation, because I didn’t think the story was very good. The story was later awarded another high school writing prize, published in two magazines, used as study materials in at least one school and translated, as I said, into Chinese and I think, included in a book of young Canadian writers published in China.

I still don’t think it’s very good. Read it and judge for yourself. Even for the 16 year old that I was, it’s shit. I kind of hate it. But most of all I hate what it did to me, because after that I didn’t write another short story for nearly ten years. I barely wrote another word. I was, in a word, mortified.

In about 1995 I wrote Hildegarde as a screenplay first. I re-drafted it once and sold the second draft to the first producer who read it. Then I won a national screenwriter development grant for it. I signed with a top agent. I got another development grant. I got a contract to write the novelization.

And I didn’t think it was very good. Don’t get me wrong. I like the movie, and the novel is kind of cute. But I don’t think it is very good. And I want to write something very good.

When you’re drawing with colored pencils, there comes a time when you just have to walk away from your drawing. You can’t erase, you can’t add anything else, you can’t color over mistakes. You just have to live with it the way it is. Even if you don’t think it’s very good. And to me, that’s not fair.

Writing for publication or production takes many things, perseverance, a thick skin, a certain madness, imagination, but above all courage. It takes courage to fill up your page with  colored pencils, knowing there comes a point you can’t change anything. Knowing that you will be judged on your colors the way they turn out, not the way you imagine them. Knowing that you can only improve one drawing by starting another one.

We writers can change things, of course we can, but only until our work is published or produced. Then it’s out there. My first published short story contains the phrase “pierced my heart like a dagger”. My “debut” novel is a not very well written novelization of a children’s movie that went direct to DVD. Harper Lee’s debut novel was To Kill a Mockingbird .

Sigh.

Pass me the colored pencils. I’m starting another drawing.

I stopped in at Chapters yesterday, on my way back from somewhere. I didn’t buy anything. These days I buy most of my books from a small retailer near my daughter’s swimming lesson. They have a limited selection, especially when it comes to middle grade and YA, but I only buy bestsellers that I’m desperate to read anyway (because I can’t wait to get to the top of the waiting list at the library), and they usually stock those.

Just ONE of my bookshelves

I know you can’t have too many books, but really people, I have too many books. I have books in every room in my house, including the bathroom. So mostly I prefer to borrow books from the library, which of course, everyone should visit at least weekly.

That said, I love to browse in big chain bookstores. The bounty of books inspires me, for one. Sometimes as I write I start to have doubts that my book will find a place I the world. The sheer numbers of books on display at Chapters oddly reassures me. It reminds me there will always be room for another book.

I also love the staff at big chain bookstores. While library staff are mostly college educated, and smaller bookstores are often staffed by the owners, mature business people with a sophisticated love of books, chain bookstore staff are regular people, many of them in their first job. I love that you can even find an actual teenager stocking shelves in the teen section.

Many times I’ve had animated discussions with a young bookstore staff member about the latest bestsellers, or some hidden treasure that no one has heard of. I also love their insight about what customers are drawn to, what is selling and what people are saying.  These bookstores are much busier than smaller retailers, and serve more than just the local neighborhood, so the staff there get a broad sense of the market.

Finally, sometimes the books themselves help me write. Yesterday I opened about a dozen popular teen sci-fi and fantasy titles, just to see how they start. I don’t want to read most of these, especially after reading the first few lines, but it helps to see how other authors are doing things these days. And a few of them seemed good enough that I’m going to get them from the library.

I managed to resist buying anything though. I can’t afford another bookshelf. Speaking of bookshelves, check out this awesome YA readers blog whatchyareading.net. One of my fellow NaNo writers is a contributor. They have great reviews of recent and upcoming YA releases. Clear Eyes Full Shelves is another book blog I’m loving right now.

Well, this hasn’t happened in a while. A news story has inspired me to rant. Actually that happens all the time but whatever. For some reason I’m drunk. The reason could be the debate tonight, or possibly I’m just an alcoholic. Anyway. Here I go.

So this week, Whitney Kropp, a high school girl, who was voted homecoming queen as a prank did that classic American thing and came up smelling (and looking) like a rose. It’s a real Cinderella story.

Yeah.

Look. I’m happy for you, sista. Less impressed that you are a skinny girl with a boyfriend, but points for how cute your football player escort’s smile is. He looks like the cat that ate the canary. I’d love to know what he’s thinking. Anyway replay this story next year, or somewhere else with a fat androgynous girl who’s never even been kissed (me at 16) and I’ll be really captivated. For now: meh.

What’s making me rant is that this exact thing happened at my school TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AGO. I was in grade 12. The joke was played on the frosh (freshman) queen. I don’t remember her name but she was a chubby, very awkward social outcast. I didn’t really know her, but two of my best friends were freshmen and they told me how the class conspired to elect her frosh queen as a cruel joke. My friends didn’t think it was very funny. Neither did I. But she was crowned at the frosh dance (or something). I suppose she knew it was a joke on her. Maybe she didn’t care. Maybe she did. Like I said. I don’t remember her name. She could be dead for all I know. I don’t think this was a positive experience for her.

For every Whitney Kropp who makes lemonade from lemons, there’s a Stephen King’s Carrie, a girl or boy for whom this kind of humiliation is the last fucking straw. Bullied kids kill themselves and others literally every day in the USA. When pundits ask why bullying and violence are so rampant in middle and high schools the answer is usually something along the lines of “well, kids are jerks.” An easy answer, blame the individual, because surely there is nothing wrong with our perfect society.

Okay, kids can be assholes. We get that. But let me ask you this: where in the real world are people encouraged to randomly choose someone to represent them in some way without that person’s consent? Obama and Romney have volunteered to compete for the job of president. We all know that if we could randomly choose any old person for the White House it would probably end up a tight race between Martin Sheen, Justin Beiber (who is Canadian BTW) and I don’t know, Snooki. Oh hahaha, we would laugh. Aren’t we funny for mocking the idea of democracy? Hahaha isn’t it amusing to place someone on a pedestal and worship/demonize them? Aren’t we witty for mocking someone else’s shortcomings in a public arena without their consent? Hahahahaha…

I’m all for student council elections. Candidates for student council nominate themselves. They are prepared for it. Incidents like the two described above don’t happen with student council elections. Prom king and queen, homecoming court and frosh king and queen are artificial and archaic leftovers from a time when villages voted for people to sacrifice to the volcano fairies. These symbolic sacrifices are providing even more opportunities to make young adults feel badly about themselves, trapped as they are in an arbitrary and synthetic environment with little or no control over their destiny.

WTF? Why is high school so fucked up? Because WE MAKE IT THAT WAY. We make it into a popularity contest that has no bearing on intelligence, interpersonal skills, spiritual or emotional integrity or morals. It’s a free for all, a dog eat dog contest where even the winners are losers. Is it any wonder that the teen suicide rate is so high? Why do we subject our young people to such cruel games? What does homecoming queen, prom king and harvest princess and prince accomplish for anyone? In what way does it prepare young people for the real world? At Walmart, employee of the month is based on sales and performance, not popularity. At Price Waterhouse promotion is based on results and effort, not attractiveness.

In the real world, success should be (and mostly is) based on ideas and determination and should have nothing to do with how good your parties are or what kind of car you drive, how rich your parents are or who your boyfriend is.

Once again, all too frequently it seems, it is time to really look at our school system and what it is teaching young people. From where I stand it seems mostly it is teaching kids how to be mean.

Rant over.

Copyright (c) 123RF Stock Photos

Not long ago my sister and I were talking about the emergence of high school Gay Straight Alliances. My sister was impressed with these clubs and commented “There was nothing like that when we were in school”.

“Sure there was,” I quipped. “It was called drama club.”

I’m not gay, but I was fat, nerdy, punk styled and unpopular, any and all of which got me bullied and teased in class, in choir, in band, in Brownies, in the playground, in sports teams, in gym, in intramurals, at dances and at parties. I was NEVER bullied in drama club. Drama club, back in the early 80s, was a haven for weird and bewildered misfits like myself. I hope that not much has changed.

Lots of my old drama club friends are now Facebook friends, though we are spread all over the world. Lots of them are gay or lesbian. But here’s the thing: officially, when we went to high school together, I didn’t know.

Despite the very true observation that there is not much diversity in YA literature, there are quite a few LGBT YA characters out there. I have recently read TILT by Ellen Hopkins wherein one of the main POVs is a gay teen. Yesterday I finished THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU AND ME by Madeleine George which is about a very out lesbian girl and her very closeted girlfriend. A few weeks ago I read ANDY SQUARED by Jennifer Lavoie about a teen boy falling in love and coming out. There’s an out gay character in THE PERKS OF BEING A WALLFLOWER by Stephen Chbosky. There’s a lesbian minor character in GOTH GIRL RISING by Barry Lyga.

I really enjoyed all these books but my enjoyment was slightly bittersweet. I have never been a homophobe. My father was an actor and a drama professor for pity’s sake. I suspected my high school friends were gay – some of them anyway. Some others who came out after high school had been the target of my unrequited crushes. Just recently I spotted an old crush on Facebook and thought to myself “I wonder why I never hooked up with him…oh.” Yep. His Facebook profile made it clear he is gay. Maybe he didn’t know in grade nine and ten. Maybe he knew and didn’t want to tell me.  That makes me feel a little sad.

I understand it can be pretty hard for a gay teenager. In YA books there is often a sympathetic and non-judgmental friend who makes coming out, or falling in love for the first time, or just being gay in an intolerant world a bit easier. I just wish I could have been that for my gay friends. I wish they had told me. For some of them I would not have been surprised. For some of them I might have been a little heartbroken, but I would have gotten over it. Either way I could have been that person who never wavered in friendship. I could have been their confidant. Already in grade nine I had several gay adult males as friends (my father’s students, or my older sisters’ friends). I was a teenage fag hag way before it was cool.

One night I got roaring drunk with one of these high school boys at his parents’ house. We were 16 or 17. We talked about music and school and life and it was one of the most fun nights of my life. At the end of the night we walked across a dark field to go and spy on a jock we both detested (ah, high school). Halfway across the park we stopped and French kissed. I’m not sure why we did. Drunkenness maybe. I liked him, but not that way. I was pretty sure he didn’t like me that way either. The kiss was a toothy slobbery disaster. We were mortified for about five minutes, then we forgot all about it. We stayed friends. One of my best friends later took him to prom.

Anyway, we lost touch until Facebook reconnected us. And, yeah, he’s gay. So here’s what I’m wondering. Did he want to tell me that night? And why didn’t he? And what could I have done to make him feel more safe with me? To make him know that I was his friend no matter what.

I guess what I’m saying is that it’s important to let your friends know if your heart is a judgment free zone. Maybe I didn’t make that clear back in high school. I want to make it clear now.