Showing posts with label class. Show all posts
Showing posts with label class. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Top Chef? Or Top Chauvenist?

(Top Chef's latest apparel offering. Sexist? Naaaah...)

Add in a pinch of sexism and a dab of meritocracy, and what do you get? An interesting impromptu Facebook conversation about Bravo's hit reality TV show, Top Chef.

A little background info: Stefan is one of the remaining contenders. He seems to be a good cook, but he's quite full of himself, and no one wants to work with him because his attitude is horrible. I've been rooting against him just about every episode, but last week, when the freezer broke and he was supposed to make a frozen dessert, I marveled at the fact that he figured out a way to make it work. I thought this was innovation. My friend, CR, however, thought this was a sure marker of privilege.

Here are bits of our conversation (admittedly rushed, off-the-cuff, and written in haste as we both tried to avoid grading papers)...

CR:I wouldn't care if Stefan managed to freeze that dessert by holding individual ice cubes up to it for 4 hours straight. Ugh. Ugh. I happen to think a lot of that "find a way to make it work" mentality is all about growing up with privileges that lead you to believe that you can do and be anything you want. I think that is why we see it much more often in men than women. I don't know Stephan's background (beyond being white and male), but I'd be willing to bet that he is middle class or upper class. Put all those things together and the world is much less likely to tell you that you can't do things.

RL:
Fascinating insight, but I could argue the complete opposite. I mean, doesn't growing up with little mean that you have to be innovative to make the best of it? Some of the best recipes come when there is nothing in the house, and you have to figure out what to do with what is left. So, having less means that you are forced to be more creative. You say that being a WASP means that "the world is much less likely to tell you that you can't do things," but doesn't that mean that you also never have anyone challenging you? If people always like what you have to offer, then where is the motivation to get better? And you have to admit, Stefan is a decent chef. I just hate his attitude. I mean, the show isn't judging him on whether or not he's a selfish pig. They're judging him on how he cooks. And the man can cook.

CR:
I do agree that he seems to be a good chef. I will also say, though, that the show has a history of what I see as sexism and classism. It seems very much like the judges have an idea of who they think deserves to win from the very beginning. Then there were the comments at the end of last season when the win of a woman (the first one to get so close!) who consistently made really good food was downplayed because "it was Richard's to lose" rather than hers to win. I don't know, but that spoke volumes to me. Her food was good; she proved it over and over again, yet it wasn't hers to win but someone else's to lose. Someone else who also made good food but far less consistently. Of course, the show is scripted to a certain degree, and choices are no doubt influenced by producers who are trying to keep the drama going. I guess what I'm getting at here is that I think Stefan has an advantage -- one that does not rest on merit.

And I see what you are saying about having to be creative, but that's really different than what happens on the show. Making a meal for 5 with nothing but rice, a can of pickled beets, and processed cheese is one thing. It requires invention and creativity, but historically I don't think that kind of creativity has been nearly as heralded as, say, making some kind of gourmet food with all sorts of unlimited resources.

I also see *having* to be creative as different than growing up with a feeling that you can do anything. If you are doing miraculous things in the kitchen with $30 worth of groceries every week you are still very likely being beaten down in a variety of ways. The overwhelming message is that you aren't as worthy or good as the next person. In the end, I'm not so sure that it would matter about those $30 worth of groceries and what you could do with them.

RL:
Sensei, you are very wise. Very wise indeed. I completely agree with you about the sexism at the end of last season. And I think that Stefan certainly has had advantages that, say, Gene [Hawaiian contestant who worked his way up from a dishwasher to a chef], did not, and that's definitely a class thing.

But the problem with any meritocracy is that it's nearly impossible to simply measure pure merit. We are always measuring class as well. For instance, I'm thinking about kids in elementary school as they're learning to read. The teacher is measuring their "ability" to read, but he/she is also subconsciously measuring how much time the child's parents spent reading with him/her outside of school. Often, in working class households, there isn't much available reading time. So what is the teacher really measuring? What class you were born into?

I guess what I'm saying is that to enjoy a show like Top Chef, I as the viewer have to pretend that it's all about merit. I'm sorry that Gene spent years washing dishes instead of being exposed to the culinary possibilities that Stefan was likely exposed to, but there's no way to even the playing field after the fact. It's not like we can say, "Hey Stefan, stop cooking for a few years so Gene can catch up." I have to judge them on the food they put on the table. And Stefan seems to cook good food.

CR:
I completely agree with you about there being no such thing as pure merit, and your example is a perfect one. Where we seem to differ is the ability to do the kind of pretending you described. I can't watch the show without seeing it. I think that is probably what makes you the more optimistic one and makes me the grumpier one. I honestly see positive things in both approaches.

In order for me to not throw myself into moving traffic I have to believe that acknowledging it does make a difference and while I agree that it is difficult to figure out how to level the playing field, I think it is vitally important that we try. And I'm not saying that you don't believe that because I think you do. I'm just saying that for me not to see those things makes me feel (more) complicit.


RL:
I know what you mean about not being about to ignore the sexism and classism when trying to watch the show. In fact, it drives my partner nuts because we'll be watching TV and he'll say, "I really like this commercial," and I'll go off on a rant about all the ridiculous oppression happening all over the place. Poor thing is usually like, "Oh. I didn't see that."

But I guess my point in "pretending" was that there's no way in the competition itself to level the playing field. The groundwork has already been laid (eek, lain?), and there's not much to do but sit back and laugh at the spectacle. And Stefan certainly is a spectacle.

But you're also right in saying that when we stop noticing, we become complacent, so I'm always glad for you noticing these things because they remind me to notice.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Poverty has a woman's face

(Photo Courtesy: Reuters)

As the holiday season approaches, so does our awareness of the current economic crisis in our nation. As I mentioned before, the sting of poverty disproportionately affects women. Women are frequently the caregivers of the household, the lower wage-earners, and the most vulnerable to domestic violence brought about by the desperation of financial distress.We are starting to see the concrete effects of this economic instability in the lives of women. The Global Fund for Women states that the poor economy makes women and girls "particularly vulnerable to trafficking."

In this week's Philadelphia Inquirer, Alfred Lubrano reports on the increasing gender gap, particularly among minority women. He writes:

"There's always been a gender gap and wage gap," said Carey Morgan, executive director of the Greater Philadelphia Coalition Against Hunger. "Women must pull double duty as economic providers and child-care providers."

The extra responsibility of child care has traditionally compelled many women - especially poor women - to work part-time in jobs that offer little money or security, Morgan said.

But perhaps the most disturbing news this week regarding gender inequality in this failing economy came from NPR's Talk of the Nation. Here's what I heard the other day while driving home from work. It was so disturbing that I almost pulled over.

In Los Angeles, a massive backlog of DNA evidence kits has been discovered. A scathing audit by the city controller in October showed that the L.A. Police Department had nearly 7,000 unopened and untested rape kits. Soon after, the L.A. County Sheriff's Office disclosed it was storing another 5,000.

What this means, essentially, is that women who have been violated in the act of rape are violated again as the concrete evidence of the crime against them is effectively ignored by law enforcement.

Now, to be fair, this is not due to ignorance on the side of the police, but, according to the article, due to a lack of funding and lack of resources necessary to process this important evidence.

You just have to read the article to feel this story in your gut, particularly when it comes to the case of Jeri Elster, who was raped by a stranger who had broken into her home. After her DNA evidence sat in a vault for seven years, she asked a detective to test her rape kit. The evidence matched an accused rapist in another case, but in 1992, the statute of limitations for prosecuting rapists was six years.

The good news is that the statute of limitations has since been lengthened to 10 years. The bad news is that this means countless rapists are getting off scott-free as their victims' DNA evidence sits untouched.

The story ends with this startling statistic:
According to an investigation by Human Rights Watch, as many as 400,000 rape kits sit unopened in crime labs and storage facilities.

I don't write this post to dampen our holiday spirits but simply to keep us conscious of the very real ways that our economy disproportionately disenfranchises and victimizes women. In this season commemorating the birth of Jesus, may we remember "the least of these," those most affected by economic forces.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

This week, my lens is purple

I saw The Color Purple this weekend at Philadelphia's Kimmel Center. The musical was adapted from Alice Walker's novel, and it was fantastic! Such a change from Broadway's typical boy-meets-girl-and-rescues-girl-from-war/overdominating father/tyrannical lover/crazed phantom theme. Instead, the show was populated by women with complex lives, who explore the limits of their strengths and ultimately choose their destinies.


A sampling of memorable moments:

--Miss Millie, a white woman, asks Sophia, a black woman, to care for her children. Sophia responds with a memorable, "Hell, no!"
--The cast engages in a not-so-subtle suggestive song in praise of female sexuality, "Push the Button."
--Celie refuses to continue to submit to Mister's abuse. Her revolution is symbolized by her new industry: a pants-making shop. Now we know who wears the pants in the family!

It's rare to see a show that features women in nearly every role. Even the orchestra conductor was female! I couldn't help but wonder if this was one of the reasons why the theater was only about 3/4 full for a Saturday night performance and why the run-length for this performance was only a month. Do people subconsciously think of a musical written and acted by women as a "women's" musical?

When considering issues of gender, it's also important to look at the intersecting oppressions of race and class. Despite the fact that The Color Purple consisted of an entirely African American cast, the audience was mostly Caucasian. With ticket prices starting at $28, this is likely related to class and access.

It's difficult to alter the status quo when audiences seem to demand the status quo. The Color Purple was empowering to women, particularly black women.

But who was watching?