Last week, Pamela Root and her 2-year-old son were booted off a Southwest Airlines flight because the boy wouldn't stop shouting, "Go, plane, go!" and "I want Daddy!"
I'm really tempted to say nothing more on the subject, since that sentence alone is plenty to spark a spirited argument about whether overly permissive parenting or a lack of respect for harried moms (and lack of sympathy for cranky kids) is the greater scourge facing society today -- and if I stay out of it, at least none of the ranting will be directed at me. Alas, I get paid to express opinions, so here we go.
My opinion: As a society, we do not have enough respect for harried moms (and dads, but it's usually moms) or sympathy for cranky kids, generally speaking. I believe this is an important feminist issue. I believe any adult who travels by air and claims she's never wanted to scream "Go, plane, go!" at the top of her lungs while sitting on a tarmac is probably lying. I also believe, however, that unless he has special needs that make public screaming both more likely and far more difficult to end, a toddler hollering in a closed space for a prolonged period about something other than physical pain is very unlikely to evoke much sympathy. And the adult in charge has a responsibility to try to calm him and reinforce that this is inappropriate public behavior.
Before parents start huffing that I obviously don't have kids or know what it's like -- and you're right, I don't -- let me clarify a few things about those last two sentences. First, the key word is "try." Some toddlers simply will not shut up for love or gummi bears. I get this. I've worked in daycare. I've been a nanny. I have nieces and nephews, one of whom does have special needs that made him extremely tantrum-prone when he was young. And of course his parents still had the same responsibility (not to mention natural desire) to try to calm him -- which they took very seriously, though it was often a losing battle. So I try to give all parents the benefit of the doubt, not knowing their situation, when the screaming starts. And even when it doesn't stop for a while. If I can see that the adult is trying to get the outburst in hand, and the kid is simply having none of it, I chide myself for my own knee-jerk uncharitable thoughts and try to focus instead on how frustrated that parent must be, what a crappy position she finds herself in. I believe this is The Decent Thing to Do. But at the same time, there really are parents out there who do nothing, or almost nothing, when their kids start making life miserable for everyone else on a plane or in a restaurant or in a store -- and I reserve the right to smugly judge them, dammit.
That point -- that such slacker parents exist, though they are clearly not all or even most parents -- really can't be emphasized enough in these debates. Because it seems to me, everyone who's ever been the parent of a young child has a story about the kid acting out in a way that led to a dirty look or a nasty comment from a stranger, which then leads them to think, "That could have been me -- so screw you, impatient, selfish childless person who objects to screaming children! You have no idea how hard it is!" I can appreciate that. If someone was rude to you when you were trying your best to calm your child, that person is what's known as an asshole. It wasn't fair. They shouldn't have done that. But the existence of child-hating assholes does not rule out the existence of asshole parents, and the latter are the topic at hand just now. It's like we lady bloggers are always telling men who whine, "But we're not all like that!" -- as if that news flash should end any conversation about sexist male behavior. We know you're not all like that, and if the shoe doesn't fit, you don't have to wear it. Still, some of your ilk are indeed like that, and that's whom we're discussing.
A few years ago, a cafe in a Chicago neighborhood near my own made national news when the owner, Dan McCauley, put a sign on the door that read, "Children of all ages have to behave and use their indoor voices when coming to A Taste of Heaven." Neighborhood parents went bazoo and organized a boycott, but four years later, both the cafe and the sign are still there; there wasn't sufficient outrage to change the policy. I can only assume that's because the controversy was not really about child-hating meanies versus beleaguered parents trying their very best, but about a reasonable small business owner versus a bunch of selfish jerks. Before the sign went up, as the New York Times reported:
Children were climbing the cafe's poles. A couple were blithely reading the newspaper while their daughter lay on the floor blocking the line for coffee. When the family whose children were running across the room to throw themselves against the display cases left after his admonishment, Mr. McCauley recalled, the restaurant erupted in applause.
If you're not the kind of parent who would let your child throw herself against a display case for kicks, I have no beef with you. Most people probably don't. Those who would be nasty to a parent who's engaged in the process of teaching a child that acting like a child is, unfortunately, not always completely appropriate deserve just as much scorn as parents who ignore their precious little pole-climbers. But can we at least agree that those parents deserve it, too? Can we agree that parents who read the newspaper while their kids blatantly interfere with a business's operations and drive strangers nuts might actually have earned the negative judgment of other patrons? Because I am really sick of hearing that I'm the selfish one when there are real, live parents who say stuff like, "You go to a coffee shop or a bakery for a rest, to relax, and that you would have to worry the whole time about your child doing something that children do -- really what they're saying is they don't welcome children, they want the child to behave like an adult," as ejected A Taste of Heaven patron Kim Cavitt did to the Times. There is a big difference between not welcoming children and trying to maintain a public space where one person's child won't prevent everyone else in the room from relaxing -- i.e., expecting the parent to behave like an adult.
As far as Pamela Root goes, I have no idea what she did to try to soothe her son while he was yelling, or whether she deserves opprobrium by my standards or anyone else's. According to reports, she planned to feed her son when the plane took off -- in hopes of avoiding ear pressure-related screaming -- after which she expected he would fall asleep, as he had on previous trips. Apparently, the flight attendants did not warn Root that she was at risk of being removed from the plane if she couldn't calm the boy, which might have made a difference in her response. (Before they returned home the next day, she "warned him what would happen if he acted up, that we'd get kicked off the plane," which seems to have helped.) Root and her son had flown before and eventually made it home without incident, so it obviously wasn't a chronic problem. But I still can't blame the flight attendant who said, "We've heard that before," when Root tried offering assurances that he'd be fine after takeoff. And I know I've sat on tarmacs with dozens of squawking children who were not removed from the aircrafts, which leads me to believe there was probably something different about this one. (Would it be news if Southwest or any other airline were in the habit of kicking out 2-year-olds just for acting like 2-year-olds?) And I know that parents often become desensitized to the noises their young children make, and learn to tolerate a lot more racket than the rest of us can bear, which can become problematic in a space like a plane.
So, without having been there, I can't really judge whether Root messed up, the flight attendants messed up, or both sides bear equal responsibility for turning a fairly common problem into a newsworthy incident. I can, however, say that I don't look forward to the inevitable screeds on how parents today suck or on how childless people suck for not being more understanding when 2-year-olds scream their heads off incessantly. The truth is, there are real child-haters (and parent-haters) out there, and there are real parents whose flagrant disregard for the comfort of anyone but their obnoxious offspring makes everyone around them miserable. But most of us fall into neither category. Most of us are just doing our best to get along.
So, fellow childless people, please try to remember that the kid crying behind you on a plane might be terrified or in pain, and his parents are probably trying really hard to soothe him. And parents, please try to remember that those of us who complain about crappy parenting we've witnessed are probably not talking about people like you -- unless you actually are one of the ones who would completely ignore your kid throwing herself into a display case or kicking a fellow passenger's seat for two hours. If you are one of those, then yes, my fruitless womb and I are judging you. And we'll stop being annoyed that your child acts like a child just as soon as you start acting like a grown-up.
Neither rain, nor sleet, nor house arrest will keep Roman Polanski from delivering good tidings and cheer. In a letter written from his current detention center (a spectacular three-story Swiss chalet) and his first public statement since being locked up, the 76-year-old director sent warm holiday wishes to his supporters.
That's right -- Polanski's first public words after being imprisoned didn't express remorse or beg for forgiveness. Instead, he gave a shout-out to all of the strangers out there who have had his back this whole time -- despite his having raped a 13-year-old girl. Polanski writes that he has "been overwhelmed by the number of messages of support and sympathy" he has received:
These messages have come from my neighbors, from people all over Switzerland, and from beyond Switzerland -- from across the world. I would like every one of them to know how heartening it is, when one is locked up in a cell, to hear this murmur of human voices and of solidarity in the morning mail. In the darkest moments, each of their notes has been a source of comfort and hope, and they continue to be so in my current situation.
The entire stomach-churning communique can be found on the Huffington Post, where it was published Monday by the letter's recipient, French philosopher Bernard-Henri Lévy. Thanks to "the generous access provided by Arianna Huffington and her staff," Lévy has used the site for months now as a dumping ground for his Polanski apologism -- or, as he likes to call it, a point of view that "contrasts with the howling of the pack." The truth, though, is that early on a significant share of "the pack" was howling about Polanski's victimhood just like Lévy -- but sanity finally prevailed. Unfortunately, despite popular opinion turning against the world-renowned director, his letter sadly suggests that Lévy is still far from alone.
It's the second day of Broadsheet's link-giving holiday, which means another shiny ... blog post for you to read. Yesterday we served up our best missives of the year on the topics of reproductive rights and motherhood. Now, we present to you our favorites on sex, lies and scandal — and, this year, there was plenty to choose from on that front.
"She's So Beautiful and Nice. How Do You Hit Her?" by Judy Berman: You might ask, What the hell does being pretty have to do with being hittable? At least that's what we wondered when folks started invoking domestic-violence stereotypes in reaction to Chris Brown's assault on Rihanna.
"Why I'm Starting to Feel for Miss California," by Mary Elizabeth Williams: Carrie Prejean may represent "the goody goody, the beauty queen, the topless model, the 'dumb bitch,' the would-be porn star" — but the public hatred for her says more about us than it does about her. We're the ones still clinging "to the nearly impossible-to-uphold standards we set for our beauty monarchy — sexy but not too sexy, pure but not prudish, outspoken but only if we agree with the opinion." Granted, this story was written before she truly refused to go away.
"Elizabeth Edwards' Walk of Pain," by Rebecca Traister: Why did a brilliant woman subject herself to a tortured media tour following the revelation of her husband's infidelity? She seemed on a mission to regain her dignity. As Traister so eloquently puts it:
One way to do that, of course, is to be the person who says everything that everyone else might be saying behind your back, so that they don't think you're clueless or weak. Another is to develop your own account of what happened, including the vulnerabilities that you are able to turn into strengths by expressing them with grace and beauty. Another is to trash that bitch who banged your husband in front of the whole world, with Oprah on your side.
"Craigslist Xes Out Sex Ads," by Tracy Clark-Flory: In May, Craigslist announced it was shuttering its infamous "erotic services" section and replacing it with an "adult" area, where ads would cost $10 and be rigidly screened for illegal services. Broadsheet spoke with prostitutes who made a guess as to where sex workers would turn next: the streets. But, shortly thereafter, it became clear that Craigslist's supposed turnabout really only "amounted to a dimming of the flashing lights and a renaming of its virtual red light district" — all in response to a crusading state attorney general.
"The Thorn Birds of South Carolina," by Amy Benfer: South Carolina Gov. Mark Sanford's e-mail exchanges with his mistress, "Maria," were "part morality play, part bodice-ripper" and 100 percent riveting. They also reveal Sanford as "a guy struggling to reconcile his duties as a husband and father with being 'impossibly,' 'hopelessly' in love with another woman." Ah, the timeless appeal of star-crossed sex scandals.
"Reminder: Roman Polanski Raped a Child," by Kate Harding: After the world-renowned director was finally arrested in Switzerland, you wouldn't think those five words — "Roman Polanski raped a child" — needed to be said. However, Broadsheet's Kate Harding was one of the first to say what truly mattered, and in doing so she helped change the national conversation:
Let's keep in mind that Roman Polanski gave a 13-year-old girl a Quaalude and champagne, then raped her, before we start discussing whether the victim looked older than her 13 years, or that she now says she'd rather not see him prosecuted because she can't stand the media attention. Before we discuss how awesome his movies are or what the now-deceased judge did wrong at his trial, let's take a moment to recall that according to the victim's grand jury testimony, Roman Polanski instructed her to get into a jacuzzi naked, refused to take her home when she begged to go, began kissing her even though she said no and asked him to stop; performed cunnilingus on her as she said no and asked him to stop; put his penis in her vagina as she said no and asked him to stop; asked if he could penetrate her anally, to which she replied, "No," then went ahead and did it anyway, until he had an orgasm.
"Cheering for Letterman's Confession," by Mary Elizabeth Williams: The "Late Show" host seemed to have learned a thing or two about how to properly handle a sex scandal from the mistakes of his philandering predecessors: "There were no Mark Sanford-style tears. No John Edwards-esque denials. No John Ensign-y contrite admissions that it was 'absolutely the worst thing I've done in my life.' No shame or blame. Just some straight-up, self-deprecating honesty." In a year of sex, lies and scandals, how refreshing is that?
Ladies, how many times has this happened to you? You're married to — or at least seriously dating — a handsome, high-profile professional athlete. It's a glamorous, exciting life. Too bad he's got other women throwing themselves at him 24/7. And we all know how humiliatingly that works out.
Well, now there's help. A new organization, with the back-off-bitch-he's-mine name Off the Market, has launched to help keep athletes and their significant others on the straight and narrow.
Founded by Tia Robbins, wife of New York Giants defensive tackle Fred Robbins, "professional mother" Jerika Johnstone, wife of former NFL player Lance Johnstone, and Jasmine Silva, girlfriend of St. Louis Rams safety James Butler, Off the Market promises to "enrich the lives of couples by offering a unique environment, exclusive services, and access to valuable resources for the ultimate benefit and honoring of the relationship between woman and man."
Their invitation-only kickoff event will be Monday in New York, and they promise goody bags from the likes of Tenga, makers of "the best male masturbation aid on the market." It may not be a cocktail waitress, but it's a whole lot cheaper than a divorce settlement. Looking forward, the ladies also hope to "offer a private lesson for strip pole dancing one day or even offer to have a strip pole built in a home" for their clients. Of course they do.
Every relationship deserves regular nurturing and loving attention. So I'm asking — what are the guys doing in all of this, aside from jerking off into the Tenga Flip Hole? In her bio, Silva says that "a successful woman is one that is equally amazing as a mother, a wife and a leader in her field," while Robbins echoes that "women are the rock, the heart, and soul of the relationships." That's right, once again, females are consigned to the role of gatekeepers of the out-of-control masculine libido, clinging hopefully to the stripper pole in exchange for his faithfulness.
Promoting "positive, healthy, sexy, rewarding, fun, and exciting relationships" is all well and good. But the idea that if we just try hard enough, we can buffer ourselves from the heartache of infidelity is kind of bullshit. Beautiful, sexy, smart women get cheated on every day, despite their best efforts. So while we're all for keeping the spark alive, we also note that there's something pretty sad about calling an organization "Off the Market" and having the term apply not to the women it aims to serve, but the men they're trying to hang on to.
It's that time of year when we Broadsheet writers leave behind our laptops for two days of holiday hobnobbing. But we would never completely abandon you, dear readers: We’re leaving you with our favorite posts of the year. We’ve made our list and checked it twice (we already know who's naughty and nice), so please enjoy this present (or lump of coal, in some cases) made especially for you.
But, wait, there’s more! Come back tomorrow and you'll find another gift waiting for you – the second half of our favorite posts of the year. (There were just too many sparkling gems to choose from, if we do say so ourselves.) Think of it as an extended Christmas or an abbreviated Hanukkah. Today, we bring you our top picks under the subjects of reproductive rights and motherhood; tomorrow, it's sex, lies and scandal!
"Where Will Women Go Now?" by Kate Harding: After Dr. George Tiller's murder, women were left with nearly no place to turn for late-term abortions. The importance of this was underscored by the outpouring of personal stories from people who had been under his care. As one patient powerfully put it, his clinic was "our heaven when we were living in hell."
"The Conversion of a Pro-choice Warrior," by Tracy Clark-Flory: Abby Johnson, former director of Planned Parenthood's besieged clinic in Bryan, Texas, abruptly resigned from her job and joined forces with the very antiabortion protesters who had terrorized her for years. The 29-year-old talked to Broadsheet about her sudden "change of heart."
"10 Reasons Abortion Must Be Covered," by Lynn Harris: Anti-choice activists paint the issue of whether health insurance should cover abortion as a complicated issue, but we cut through the noise early on with a simple and straightforward guide to why it isn't complicated, and why denying coverage means denying choice.
"The Opium (and Lion's) Den of Motherhood," by Broadsheet staff: Katie Roiphe waxed poetic about the all-consuming love she felt during the first six weeks with her second child in a provocative essay in Double X, "My Newborn Is Like a Narcotic." (Provocative subhead: "Why won't feminists admit the pleasure of infants?") It turned out to be a bit of a Rorschach for us. Some thought it feminist backlash, others called it a moving paean.
"Lay Off Those Not-So-Glamorous Teen Moms," by Amy Benfer: A report finding that the teen birthrate had risen led to an attack on "romantic" and "glorious" portrayals of teen motherhood. But as former teen mom Amy Benfer points out, you can’t pin this one on "Juno," Jamie Lynn and Bristol Palin, whose stories, by the way, weren't the least bit "glamorous."
"Sarah Palin, One Tough Mama," by Amanda Fortini: When Palin resigned as Alaska governor, she left dropped jaws and question marks in her wake. But looking at her short, powerful public career offered an indelible lesson about the "appeal of the strong, confident, maternal woman." Being a "mama grizzly" doesn't exactly qualify one to be vice president, but "the tough mother persona was one we hadn't seen before in a female candidate running at the national level" -- and it's a trope that isn’t likely to disappear anytime soon.
On Monday, Mary Elizabeth Williams wrote about her Google search for "female athlete of the decade," which yielded a bunch of results about the most attractive lady sports stars, regardless of talent or accomplishment. Her infuriating conclusion: The wisdom of the crowd dictates that "women in sports equals hotness in sports!"
But this year, with its list of finalists for Female Athlete of the Year, the Associated Press chose to honor an overlooked category of sportswomen, one definitely not (we hope, anyway) centered on fuckability: The equine division. No, I don't mean "equestrian" -- out of the top 10 vote-getters, two were horses. All of the male finalists, just in case you were wondering, were human.
Now, I don't doubt that Zenyatta and Rachel Alexandra are a credit to their sport -- in fact, Zenyatta was the first ever female horse to win the Breeder's Cup Classic, while Rachel was the first filly to win the Preakness since 1924. Way to bust the glass ceiling, gals! Nevertheless, I can't help noticing that they are not human, which -- call me speciesist -- is something I usually expect from an "athletes of the year" list. Perhaps if the AP folks had given the subject a bit more thought, they might instead have chosen to honor, say, Rosemary Homeister, who in 2009 became the second most successful female jockey of all time. Or, you know, any other two women in sports, leaving Zenyatta and Rachel to duke it out for Horse of the Year. Something more like that?
The AP's official pick for Female Athlete of the Year was announced today, and I'm happy to report that human being Serena Williams took the title, beating out the second place winner by 48 votes. You know who that was, though? Zenyatta! Kim Clijsters, Lindsey Vonn and Diana Taurasi, all of whom placed after the mare, can suck it, apparently.
The good news for the runners up -- and other actual female athletes -- is that it seems Zenyatta won't be racing in 2010, so maybe more two-legged candidates will stand a chance next year. As long as they're hot, of course.
There was no justification for shooting Dr. George Tiller. It wasn't a courageous feat; it didn't prevent greater harm. Most of us already knew this, of course, but now we can rest assured that when accused killer Scott Roeder goes on trial next month in Wichita for killing the abortion provider, the jury will not be allowed to entertain such an odious plea.
This early Christmas present comes courtesy of Judge Warren Wilbert who on Tuesday rejected Roeder's "necessity defense." In his ruling, the judge said: "I recognize we could all have our own individual personal views, religious views, moral and ethical views. but the United States Supreme Court has come down many, many years ago in Roe v. Wade that an abortion is a legal and constitutionally protected decision by the mother and ... by health care providers." Period.
Here's the thing, though: The confessed killer will still be allowed to argue that he snuffed out Tiller to save the "unborn children" the doctor would have aborted. This could potentially pave the way for a lesser conviction like voluntary manslaughter, which is defined under state law as the "unreasonable but honest belief that circumstances existed that justified deadly force." Roeder's belief -- that it was necessary to kill Tiller to prevent the doctor from "murdering more babies" -- seems to meet those requirements. Unreasonable? Check. (Abortion is legal, remember.) Honest? Yep, there' s no doubt he's a man of strong convictions.
Isn't that nice? Potentially reduce your sentence to less than 10 years in prison by arguing: I unreasonably broke the law, yeah, but I really believed it had to be done. That said, the judge "might limit what the defense can say in opening statements, and indicated it would be difficult to allow testimony indicating Roeder was acting in defense of others because the law requires an 'imminent threat,'" according to the Los Angeles Times. However, the defense team previously requested a list of Tiller's clinic appointments scheduled for both before and after his death -- presumably to argue that there was indeed an "imminent threat."
We'll just have to wait and see when the trial kicks off on Jan. 11.
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