Stuff I didn’t connect before

I love marbles. They’re pretty, and fun to just play around with, and you can do decorative things with them like put them in the bottom of a vase.

I still have a bunch of them from when I was younger.

I actually played marbles sometimes, with my brother. But mostly I’d just get them out and sort them by size and color, and admire my favorite ones, and put them away.

And sorting toys or putting them in patterns “instead of playing with them” (as if it doesn’t count as playing with them) is a Thing.

——

Once (I was pretty young at the time, I think, but I don’t remember exactly when it was) when I had almost used up a container of beads, I took the ones that were left, sorted them into rainbow order and just strung them on a spare bit of thread, instead of trying to make anything out of them. I might still have it somewhere, actually.

Edit: Yup. In the bottom of my old jewelry box.

beads

Wow.

Someone linked me to this site recently, and I started playing around with the facial expression quiz.

So, first off: I don’t consider myself to have any significant trouble reading facial expressions, or people’s moods in general. But when it’s framed as a mutliple choice quiz…

I looked at the first picture it gave me and thought “Worried. She looks very worried.” But that’s not an option. These are my options:

  • Surprise
  • Questioning Surprise
  • Fear
  • Slight Fear
  • Disgust
  • Disgust mixed with Contempt
  • Contempt
  • Slight Anger
  • Anger
  • Happiness
  • Sadness
  • Slight Sadness
  • Happiness mixed with Surprise
  • Fear mixed with Surprise
  • Happiness mixed with Contempt
  • Anger mixed with Disgust
  • Sadness mixed with Fear
  • Neutral

What in the world is the difference between “surprise” and “questioning surprise” and “fear mixed with surprise”? In what situation would someone feel happiness mixed with contempt? Why these particular emotions and not others? Why are there degrees of intensity for some and not others?

After doing 40 questions, I have a 63% success rate, and that’s only because it sometimes gave me the same face more than once. Otherwise I don’t think I would have gotten above 50%. Being able to understand someone’s mood in context in my everyday life really does not equip me to sort people’s facial expressions into these very specific boxes.

The quiz comes with a guide to how the facial expressions are defined. I guess that’s how they sorted the faces and came up with all the “mixed with” answers, by matching them to those definitions. 

It doesn’t seem possible to do well on this quiz unless you do the same thing as the people who made it– literally go down a checklist of what the eyebrow, nose, etc. positions are supposed to be for each emotion. Which is not, at all, how most people identify expressions in their everyday life (unless someone wants to contradict me?) We don’t consciously learn to analyze faces. We pick up people’s emotions without too much conscious thought, with help from a wide variety of cues besides faces.

There are plenty of things where I’ll say “It’s okay in fiction, because we know all the characters’ inner thoughts and we know they’re okay with it, but it wouldn’t be okay in real life.” And that’s what I believe.

But personally, I’m often not comfortable even reading about things like that. It’s not sexy to me, at all.

——

I’m reading a fic one of my friends wrote. And the sex by itself is fine, and I understand why she likes it and wanted to write it. But one of the characters– if she existed in real life I’d be trying to get her medical license revoked. She’s right, she’s justified in the end, but some of the things she does in the name of “I know just what you need, now stop being such a prude and listen to me” are just awful. And being right shouldn’t erase that.

Today in funny thoughts

I’m watching this sort-of documentary about Isaac Asimov. And I’m sure I’ve heard things like this lots of times before, but now I’m thinking about it.

People say things like “What if computers become more complex than human minds? What if humans become obsolete?”

Well, that’s only a problem if you think being less intelligent than other people makes you worthless.

Robots may well end up with more abilities than we have, but that’ll only lead them to get rid of us if we teach them eugenics.

I think.

You know the thing where putting lots of qualifiers on your statements– “I think”, “it seems like”, “I feel like”– is disproprtionately common among women rather than men?

And occasionally you hear people encourage women to stop using these phrases and try to sound more confident?

I use them a lot, probably partly for gender reasons and for anxiety reasons, but also because (it seems like) if I don’t, I come across not as confident but as too terse or pushy.

Comment/message character limits are bad for me, because I try to be concise and (I think) if I were actually speaking out loud I could make it come out reasonable, but in text it looks short and snappy and unpleasant, or like too much information all at once.

I can be really damn concise, but if you don’t read with the understanding that I’m trying to be as concise as possible, it’s confusing and sounds bad.

It’s like the “narrative zoom levels” thing, except I need people to zoom in on each word and people don’t normally read that way.

People don’t normally say something once, as well as possible, and just let that stand. They explain by repeating, they show all the different nuances of the idea in slightly different phrasing throughout the explanation. You get one idea from a five-page essay, one big complex carefully fleshed-out idea, sculpted in your mind by a whole bunch of different words.

Why did anyone ever encourage me to be concise? Why do I feel like my natural inclination to write in ways that fit in with the above, that circle the same idea multiple times in different language, from different angles, is wrong? I mean, sometimes I keep going longer than I need to, but. My natural, “disorganized”, circling, rambly composition is, overall, more like other people’s good writing than my conciseness is.

—–

This is also why I (ab)use line breaks so much. It’s another way of adding space, of making people pause and think between a bunch of compact sentences.

Today in I don’t know

I initially assumed that both Gavin de Becker (The Gift of Fear) and Lundy Bancroft (Why Does He Do That?) were women. (They’re both men.)

I’m used to the majority of the people talking about these things being women who are abuse survivors. So I’m kind of wondering why the big famous books are by men. There have to be women out there who have both personal experience and Respectable Work Credentials on this topic, right? Why haven’t I heard of them?

Femininity- for Sparkly

Somebody want to explain to me what femininity is and how I might define myself as a woman?
Because there is literally no train that can be defined as “feminine” without excluding someone, and excluding people is bad.
So apparently there’s no difference between men and women anymore?

I don’t remember how much of this I actually said to you before (maybe none?) so congratulations and apologies here is a bunch of rambling.

The problem is:

If you define what it means to be a woman (or a man, or androgynous, or some other gender) in a firm, specific way, that hurts people. Because people feel obligated to be (whatever gender) “the right way” even if it’s not a good fit for them, or else they feel hurt and excluded because they aren’t capable of doing it “the right way”.

But if you don’t have any solid definition of what each gender is, then how can anyone have a gender, or know what gender they are?

I’m not a fan of the idea that the concept of gender should be gotten rid of entirely. Maybe in some hypothetical sci-fi future we’ll get there. At the moment, though, lots of people (almost everyone?) feel like their gender is a really important part of who they are. We can’t just ignore that. We can’t make everyone instantly forget the idea of gender, and that’s what it would take for it to stop being an issue.

I think the solution to the above problem is to let go of the idea that a gender has to have a totally solid, consistent definition.

Being a woman doesn’t have to mean exactly the same thing to everyone– and, I mean, it already doesn’t.

There’s sort of a loose constellation of things that are generally accepted as part of being a woman, but very few women fit all of them, of course, and many women consider their identity as a woman to contain things that aren’t part of the most common definition. Sometimes, different women even see directly opposite things as part of their identity as a woman. Like, some people see motherhood as being soft and caring enough to understand a child’s needs and treat them gently. Some people see it as being emotionally and physically tough enough to put their child/ren’s needs above their own. And then of course some women don’t see being a mother as part of their identity at all.

Being a woman already means very different things to different individual women. All of us already pick and choose among many stereotypes, and ideals, and traditions, and role models, to create a picture of what womanhood means to us. That’s how identity works most of the time. It’s based in culture, but it is personal. We take in messages about what it means to be women, or anything else– note that verb, we take them in. We make them part of us. We explore them and decide what they mean to us. We adapt them to fit us. It’s not a certification checklist that we go down and rigorously fulfill every item.

 

I know I go a little overboard on comparisons and similes sometimes, but I think this is useful as an example that other identities already work this way, too:

A lot of people feel that the place they were born, the place they grew up, the place they live, is an important part of their identity. They feel attached to a place and its specific culture.

But two different people’s perceptions of what it means to be from a certain place may be extremely different. That’s true even for a small town, and when it comes to identity as a citizen of a nation– that’s very important to a lot of people, but how in the world can we expect people from opposite ends of a continent, which are very different in everything from ethnic makeup to climate, to feel the same way about what it means to be American? Clearly we can’t, they don’t, there’s a huge amount of disagreement about what being American should mean and who should be included. Yet we don’t question that “I’m an American” can be a part of someone’s identity. We feel like we can still define it easily, because the government has a specific definition of citizenship, and this covers up the fact that “being an American” isn’t necessarily the same as citizenship and it very much lacks a specific definition.

Gender can be the same way– it should be the same way. The same word can have meaning to lots of people without having exactly the same meaning. No one has to be judged or excluded.

—–

Not so much for Sparkly as for the hypothetical radical feminist in the back of the room:

“But OMG what does this mean for feminism, how can we advocate for women if we can’t define women?”

You may have noticed that we already have trouble advocating for women, because women already view their identities differently, have different perspectives and needs, and prioritize different things.

(By which I mean, you probably should have noticed, or you haven’t been paying attention– for instance, to the huge problems that black women often have with mainstream feminism.)

Feminism isn’t a monolith, it doesn’t need to be one, and it definitely doesn’t need tons of gatekeeping and concern about who’s really a woman. We can help women without expecting to help all women at once, or insisting that all women agree on what kind of help they need most. There is no way to make women into a monolith without harming women who fall outside of what you expect the monolith to be.

Rambling about “dehumanization”

Why aren’t there any good ways to talk about it? You can use big academic words like the above, like “dehumanization” and “denying agency” and (I think this belongs here?) “abject identity”, that place it in an abstract kind of understanding rather than a personal one. Or you can use everyday words that totally fall short of expressing how serious it is.

Sci-fi/fantasy roots make me reluctant to go along with what happens connotatively, which is that “being human”/”humanity” is what connotes to people the sense of being recognized as a real person, with agency, deserving of respect. We have this lovely word, “person”. Which ought to mean that without technically meaning something genetic. But it only gets used in totally ordinary ways, it doesn’t have that connotative weight. The only people who use it for that oomph of “recognize and respect” are pro-lifers talking about “fetal personhood”, because in that context the denotative meaning of “human” would make it sound tautological.

And when I go at it from the angle of trying to describe the actual thing that happens– like I did in my explanation up there– I hit the same problem. The words that ought to technically mean what I’m talking about, like “respect”, have been used so much as buzzwords that they don’t really leave an impression. They go in one ear and out the other and make you think of your grandfather or your gym teacher, going on about something that may have just amounted to “follow the rules”.

I haven’t been able to come up with anything that conveys… the serious definition of “respect”, I guess? without resorting to religious language, like recognizing God in other people, or everyone having equally precious and immortal souls.

 

And the opposite is equally hard to describe. In my last post (and in a lot of others) I ended up settling on “wrong” for when someone’s personhood/humanity/etc gets dismissed, because it’s simple and I think it has some of that connotative weight. “That’s just wrong” is something you can imagine people saying with the right kind of emphasis.

 

“I’m so random”

Do you understand why teenagers say that?

Because, let me tell you a thing:

When I was a teenager, I envied people who were able to say that, who were able to take “being random” as a part of their identity.

“Being random” is the slow, gentle, acceptable way to begin to distance yourself from the absolutely suffocating forces of Being Normal and Being Cool.

I wish I knew, ro even knew where to start looking, to see if this is a thing recognized by psychologists, but from what I’ve experienced: Children/teens between certain ages are consumed by labelling everything as appropriate or inappropriate. And it gets very binary, and every small detail becomes equally essential to get right, and having consensus with the people around you is very imporant. Your attention is on everything you do, to see if it’s right, to see if the people around you do it the same way, to see what they think of you doing it. “Being random” is how you break away from that mindset. It’s how you start to do things because you want to do them, even if they aren’t part of what you’re Supposed To Do.

So, yeah, I don’t dismiss people who say that they’re oh so random. What they mean is “I’m beginning to realize that there’s more to life than being just like the cool kids,” and that’s really important. It may be an awkward-looking spot to be in, when seen from the outside, but it’s a good thing.

—–

I didn’t feel like I could get away with it. I didn’t get to call my deviation from the norm “being random”. Everyone around me had already labelled it as “being weird”, which was worthy of mockery. “Random” is how you get to be different and have it seen as being a unique, independent person, instead of a person who is wrong. And I couldn’t get to that.

—–

The difference between Sparkly and me is she got called wrong, and always thought she could prove she was normal if she had the chance. I got called wrong and I knew I could never be normal enough. I wanted a chance to prove I was still human.

 

Cultural differences

When I was in college, I took a class in the education department. It was supposed to be aimed at everyone as a basic discussion of the current state of public schools in the US. There were a lot of things I didn’t like about it, but one thing it did decently was discussing how cultural differences can cause trouble for students– like, differences in when and how it’s considered okay to speak up and ask questions, differences in how people show respect to authority, differences in writing/communication style.

And I really identified with that, although I felt conflicted about it because it wasn’t meant to be about me and there wasn’t any reason why I should feel that way.

But yeah, I found the things I was taught in elementary/middle school about writing totally nonsensical. Because things that make sense when you’re writing a ten-page paper on an obscure topic are totally unreasonable and unnecessary when you’re writing one paragraph about hamburgers. But it really bothered me. I wanted to do a good job of communicating by my own standards, as well as follow the rules of the assignment, but what I was being asked to do seemed so wrong that I felt completely stuck. (I’ve never been able to “bs” my way through writing of any kind. I just can’t do it. Maybe some of that is fear of saying the wrong thing, like I’ve talked about before, but I think some of it is just me. Words are too important for me to not try to make them real and meaningful.)

I would have been so happy in a class like the one I read about, that essentially taught kids to code-switch between a wordy, formal, academic style, and a short, to-the-point style that was more familiar to them, and talked about the advantages of both.