Monday, July 12, 2010

Travel and Cuisine-the perfect duo

I recently had the pleasure of a visit from two lovely friends from the US, Alex and Cara. Cara wrote a delightful post about her visit, with particular emphasis on the gastronomic delights of Morocco. Read and salivate! The photos are excellent.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Melodee in the Media

I have made it into the Moroccan print media (Femmes du Maroc, a national magazine) and international broadcast media again (and see me totally work my rhinestoned silk scarf)! You can also see me here and here and here.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Genital cutting in the news this month

Genitals have been on my mind a lot these past few months. Below are two stunning articles that emphasize the unfortunate misalignment in the discourse around genital cutting of boys versus genital cutting of girls. In an article from Friday, 18 June 2010, the headline reads "Circumcisions kill 20 boys in South Africa." This cutting has killed and disfigured boys, but we approach it with benign language. Why don't we speak out for these boys the way we speak out for girls who have been subjected to genital cutting? It's all mutilation in my book, and while a gendered approach permits important insights into social issues, we must avoid becoming blinded by gender bias.

Meanwhile, I want to draw your attention to the on-going gender mutilation that is occurring in the US. This article draws attention to the grisly, homophobic practices of Dr. Dix Poppas. Hilarious, unfortunate names aside, these baby girls' genitals are subject to the capricious, aesthetic bias of certain medical practitioners hacking away willy nilly at newborns' vulvae like some kind of postmodern Michelangelo. Abominable.

I've previously written about genital cutting here and here.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Hijabblogs (Thank you Bitch Magazine, Issue 45)

We all know the stereotypes: Muslim women are oppressed. Headscarves demean and subjugate women. And so on...

But who among us really knows anything beyond these superficial, over-simplified, politically appealing but substantively empty notions? Well, here are some voyeuristic reading suggestions for you, courtesy of Bitch Magazine.

These blogs seek to “explain and demystify Muslim dress codes for novice muhajiba (wearers of the hijab) and curious outsiders.” By the way, these are not burqas (something worn in Afghanistan that covers the entire body, hiding the eyes and obscuring vision almost entirely) and not niqabs (where only the eyes are visible, giving the wearer the appearance of a ninja).

Gawk on dear readers...

Stylish Muslimah (“The Muslim Vogue”)
Hijabi Couture
Hijabulous
Hijabs High (in the style of The Satorialist)
We Love Hijab (plus-size and type of ‘What Not to Wear’)

Boys' literacy

While spending this year in Morocco (September 2009 to September 2010), part of my time here is dedicated to working on my dissertation. I am rounding up the 4th year of the International Studies doctoral program at Old Dominion University. This fourth year is also a first year of sorts. On 16 September 2009 I successfully defended my PhD comprehensive exams, a brutal 2-day (8 hours per day) writing exam (without notes or resources other than what I’ve learned and prepared between the 3-year period between matriculation and satisfying class/lecture requirements) followed by an oral defense. I am now ABD—all but dissertation—and dissertating full time instead of attending lectures full time. As an ABD, my dissertation is on my mind at all times, even when I am relaxing, which for me often includes reading or watching something inextricably connected to my research interests.

My dissertation topic is the role of illiterate women in political change. I am specifically looking and illiterate women’s agency in developing states, and Morocco is one of my chosen country studies. When my thoughtful aunt forwarded me the most recent issues of my favorite women’s magazine—Bitch—I read them with interest, finding particular inspiration from an article about boys’ literacy. I offer up here some [superficial but thoughtful] insights and critical commentary.

Jeffrey Wilhelm, coauthor of the male literacy study Reading Don’t Fix No Chevys: Literacy in the Lives of Young Men, declares that, “[i]t’s understood that boys, in general, struggle with literacy.” I wonder, is this universally true? Or only true in the US/North America/developed countries? Is there an implication for Morocco?

Later the author concludes that, “boys aren’t (as is sometimes claimed) reading worse than before, but they are reading consistently worse than girls.” In Morocco, where women’s illiteracy is consistently much higher than men’s (except in Western Sahara…but that point deserves its own special focus), what can we learn from the case of Morocco from how/what boys read compared to girls, including how boys and girls are taught differently about literacy, its function in their lives, and how they perceive literacy as benefiting or fitting into their lives as citizens, activists, and everyday folks?

According to Jon Scieszka, founder of Guys Read, a literacy program for boys, “there [is] hardly any research on the connection between gender and reading.” This is my chance to fill that gap, while integrating an international perspective, an Arab perspective, an African perspective, and perhaps even an Islamic perspective.

“Scieszka’s theory is that because boys develop at a different rate than girls, many of them simply aren’t ready for reading—‘the very abstract task of learning to make literary sense of combinations of 26 different squiggles on a page’—when it’s first taught in school.” In the case of Morocco, public primary and elementary education is lamentable, and thus an issue that requires analysis and deconstruction in its own right. Nonetheless, this hypothesis (not so much a theory), inspires critical analysis of the pedagogical approach to boys’ and girls’ education in Morocco. Is it a given in Morocco that boys develop at a different rate than girls? What are the value judgments assigned to or accompanying perceptions about differential rates of learning between the sexes? Or does a separate understanding altogether exist in the Moroccan approach to pedagogy and sex? Is there a particular approach anyhow?

The author asserts that reading preferences are largely socialized, a point that seems fairly obvious, certainly to anyone who would be reading Bitch magazine.

More insightfully, the author declares that feminists should be at the forefront of [innovative] literacy approaches, especially prepared to approach them critically. “After all, if boys are having problems with reading, that negatively affects how the men they become see both themselves and women. When we read, we see from other perspectives—including other perspectives on gender.”

Is this true? Or is this simply reinforcing the status quo notion that readers are more intellectually adept or are intellectually superior to non-readers…where do language, diglossia, linguistic prestige, etc. fit in?

The author continues that, “[t]he uncommonly honest accounts of men’s and women’s experiences that can be found in literature make the gender construct seem a cartoon of human experience, and offer boys the chance to transcend simplistic, dehumanizing notions of masculinity and femininity. For boys to access these accounts, though, they first have to want to—they first have to make sense of those squiggles on the page.”

This is laying a LOT of responsibility on literacy, not to mention assuming that literacy sine qua non provides enlightenment. I am not convinced. What do you think?

Jonathan Frochtwajg. “Paper Boys.” Bitch Magazine. Winter 2009. Issue no. 45. Page 11.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

My father's insightful commentary on genital cutting

In response to my blog post Maternity, abuse, and genital mutilation, my father wrote the following (posted with permission):

My awesome dad had the following to say on this post:

Why is [circumcision] a celebration?

I agree and disagree with your blog. I don’t think women's genitalia should be cut ever!!! Not because of culture or religious reasons but I also don’t understand why they do it. If it has a legitimate medical benefit then maybe and only maybe, but absolutely not for some ritual that is outdated because they did it hundreds of years ago out of shear "cave man logic" ignorance. I guess there is a smegma issue with women and extra skin but I cant comment on that since I have no vagina to base an opinion on. [As a man, I am] not in a position to have an opinion on the female issue really.


As far as men go though, I am a man and have been around many other men who are and are not circumcised. I'm no expert and don’t claim to be, but I just cant imagine what benefit or why someone would want to leave the foreskin on a man's penis and I have no religious or other agenda behind my belief. The foreskin hangs and lays over the end of the penis, so much so on some men that it totally engulfs the end of the penis so you can't even see it. All that foreskin hanging over the end and closing shut for the better part of the day is nothing more than a smegma collection center, allowing germs to build up. When a man pees he merely shakes it and that is it, leaving the end the large majority of the time wet with pee. It's not shaken dry right after peeing. So, the [head of the penis] retracts wet and all that piss collects in the foreskin cave festering till shower time. Not too mention the men who probably take a shower and don’t bother to go out of their way to pull the foreskin back to wash it. I was never traumatized as a child because I simply had no mental clue what was going on when the circumcision was complete and I am so thankful not to have to deal with a foreskin all my life. One can also pee by the way and not even pull the foreskin back to do so and men do it, I've seen it done. I think some men go through childhood not being reinforced and taught the importance of foreskin management also. Anyhow, overall, it just makes decent common sense to remove it right at the time of birth and it's over forever. Waiting, I am definitely not a proponent of, at all.

I believe there are a gazillion men like me who have absolutely zero religious agenda and support no foreskin if given an option at birth. Don’t cut it later, do it before [the baby] comes home from the hospital for the very first time. Waiting would create a more stressful situation and then we have a whole new set of circumstances to deal with.

Of course, opinions are like butt holes, everyone has their own. With regards to men, I don't think there is a right and a wrong choice but I do firmly believe that eliminating foreskin at time of birth is a very good idea.

Again, not having a vagina and that whole experience eliminates me from being able to make a common sense judgment or opinion on what women should or shouldn’t do.

--end--

Oh that everyone without a vagina would leave vaginal decision-making to the vagina bearers. Thanks for sharing dad!

Where in the world I am (physically and intellectually)

My last blog post came just before I attended an amazing conference in Fes on integrating marginalized women into society in Morocco. The presentations were informative, often infuriating, and provoked some rich insights for my own dissertation research. That fortuitous trip to Fes brought me to the 2nd excellent, concrete example I need that proves my research assumption. Since then (it was in March), I embarked on a 2 week trip with my fellow Arabic-pedagogy-reform enthusiast, Alaina, where outside of a 3-day Easter holiday bonanza in African Spain (or Spanish Africa?), all of our activities were Arabic only—including an excruciating (but politically-charged and opinionated) 3-hour monologue between our grand taxi driver and me while the others slept in the back seat.

This brings me to today, the last weekend in May. Fieldwork is a lot of fun, frustration, and relationship building. Morocco is still an amazing place to be, and I have been flourishing intellectually and personally while here. I have said goodbye to some great roommates and house-warmed with some new ones (I miss you!).

Meanwhile, the first 4 months of my stay here saw a great of my time being consumed with funding applications to continue my work. These final 4 months see me faced with rejections of all of the 6 applications. Nonetheless, I am fully prepared for whatever September and beyond has in store for me on the North American continent (I can think of some fun to be had in Boston or Gulfport or Harrisburg or even (heaven help me) Norfolk).

The real point of today’s post is to put some perspective onto the odyssey that is learning Arabic. When my Arabic teacher asked us to choose among a list of topics in our textbook to prepare and consequently deliver a short talk to the class, I chose the history of French occupation in Algeria. Unfortunately, doing Arabic homework in Rabat is nowhere near as fun as doing Arabic homework in Tangier was when I was there in 2008. Thus I get distracted easily, by anything—the cat, the 14 browser windows open, the 73 unanswered emails…I did try to prepare the talk. I got one juicy tidbit about the French occupation of Algeria in 1830 resulting in the revival of complete texts of Ibn Battuta’s travelogue. But soon I was thinking about how to draw accessible parallels for people who have never and will never study Arabic. How can I explain how silly and difficult studying ‘Modern Standard Arabic’ is? So then I started reading about the English language in the 800s CE. I call upon you native speakers of English.


Can you understand this? (start at 2:56, listen for a few seconds, then skip to 5:03)



This is what I sound like when I try to use Modern Standard Arabic in casual conversation. Fun! What's more, imagine if the English we know weren't a written language. Imagine that it were only a spoken language, and that the written language looked like this:

That's pretty much what I'm working with here. It's going pretty well speaking and reading an 8th century language.