I'm a woman and I've been online since 1990. I run a women's mailing list, Voxxen, that's been around since 1991 and I'm left wondering, if women are the majority of the online population, why are we still treated as a minority?
There's all these "women's sites" out there, but far far fewer "men's sites." Does gender neutral mean male? Do women have special needs? And what's the deal with these women's sites anyway? I know I never got online to buy lipstick and bitch that my man won't take out the garbage. When will both women and men realize that we don't want to be coddled, and that the development of women-only areas of the Internet hasn't happened so women can feel safe, but so that women can find some space where they aren't condescended to?
I'm sick of being merely a misunderstood marketing phenomenon.
All of these suggestions I view as "compromises" -- things that would make the WAVE program less dangerous while stopping short of what I personally believe is the best solution, which is a total scrapping of the whole thing and all similar initiatives.
1. WAVE needs to create student advisory groups to express concerns and report on how this proram is actually effecting their schools. WAVE needs to go out of their way to recruit a broad cross-section of kids -- not the just the leaders, popular and comfortable kids. And WAVE needs to really listen to what they say. This needs to be more than a PR measure.
2. WAVE needs to create lists of things other than danger signs. WAVE needs to create lists of things that are NOT danger signs and that they will as policy not act on. Things that should be included in this list include fashion statements, shyness, individuality, an interest in computers, religious and sexual preference, etc.
3. If WAVE is going to be in schools, it needs to get into the business of education. WAVE needs to institute peer-led tolerance initiatives that support individuality, free speach and a persecution-free school environment for all students.
4. WAVE must eliminate all rewards for reports to its hotline.
5. WAVE needs to make clear that no student will ever be considered a suspect by it or the school it is opperating in for choosing not to participate in WAVE programs.
6. WAVE needs institute anonymous hotlines for kids to call to express their anger, frustration and sadness.
7. While WAVE should protect the identities of those who make reports, WAVE should not allow anonymous reports. False, malicious reports should be investigated and disciplined.
8. WAVE should create mentoring programs open to all students that will pair them with a young adult who can relate to their concerns and act as an advocate for them outside of the heated worlds of family and classroom.
9. WAVE should create youth-led education programs for parents on youth culture so that they can make informed decisions about their kids interests versus relying on paranoid innaccurate news briefs (remember the great goth scare?)
10. WAVE should commit itself to an open records policy that would allow anyone, of any age, to get statistics on reports to WAVE and their validity and the consequences of both valid and invalid reports.
11. WAVE needs to re-position itself in a pro-youth way. Adolescence is not a crime. This proram needs to get on the side of youth, not on the side of adult's media-induced paranoia.
12. No program like this should be run by a for-profit organization. Because fear sells, any for-profit organization running a program like this is going to engage in unethical behaviors whether they intend to or not.
13. WAVE should agree to submit to a watchdog group. Slashdot'ers (or whoever) should get together to create a group that would serve as a watchdog over programs like WAVE, censorware and other initiatives that are anti-youth, anti-technology and anti-freedom of information. If children aren't exposed to the real world, how the hell are they supposed to learn to live in it?
One of my oldest friends is a teacher. Last night she told me what's been going on in her school. Teachers are scared of the freaks, they are whispering about who to watch out for in the teachers lounge, and my friend spoke up and said "I was a goth. And a nerd. And miserable and suicidal because I wasn't doing what everyone else was doing. So I graduated, went to college and came to NY, and now you're telling me, that kids who are the way I was terrify you. I know plenty of goths, I've been to the clubs, and you couldn't find a group of more harmless people. It's just about sensuality. Wait, that scares you too." Her fellow teachers just looked at her in shock and horror anyway. How can it be that education these days is only for those that don't explore?
Anyway, I've got friends going to their local school board meetings, and writing their alma maters and spreading the word.
I won't argue about fraternities with you, as I was in a very small regional sorority in college that was quite a-typical, but I will say I graduated from GWU, and it was not a happy shiney place. I think the biggest downside to fraternities is that they often encourage people not to see what is going on in their community outside of the fraternity or sorority. GWU was a pretty hate-filled place when I was there ('90-'94) and I hope those years were an aberation - but I received one too many rape threats and saw one too many friends gay bashed not to say something.
This is essentially my post that's burried in yesterday's comments, but I feel it needs to be said again -- we need to share our stories, not just with the media -- but with teachers and schools -- write your alma maters -- thank those who cared but also let administrators know who you were and who you are and just how hard it was to survive then to get to now in an environment that too often condoned the abuse of what it did not understand:
For most of my education I attended an all-girls private school in NYC. At age six, girls knew enough about social stratification to say I was half as good as them because I was skinny, knobby-kneed and in their world, poor. By junior high, they'd beat me up for getting a good part in the school play. And by eighth grade students and teachers alike screamed at me daily for being inappropriate because I would cry when students told me I was ugly and didn't deserve to exist. I was constantly thrown out of classrooms for standing up for myself, when the girls who started it would never be punished. There was an award the school gave out, ostensibly to the girl with the most community service. God, I wanted that stupid silver cup, and I was a shoe-in for it, but I didn't get it -- it was given instead to a student who had less achievement in this area than me but whose demeanor was deamed more representative of the school. Couldn't have an award winner who didn't smile just right in the school fundraising magazine I guess.
You've heard it all before, right? Miserable, lonely and not only did no one care, no one believed.
My final years of high school were finished out at a specalized public school. I knew, maybe ten people, all nerds like me. But everyone knew me -- the girl with the funny clothes, the girl who must be anorexic she's so thin (I have a heart condition that affects my weight), the girl who tries to fit in with the goth kids but is too shy even to talk to them.
I can't tell you college was much different. People would call me and threaten to rape me because I was dating a woman. People hissed at me in the halls because of funny clothes I'd wear to clubs, or my gay friends, or the fact that I was the only non-Christian on my floor.
But by college I had a choice. I had a city to make friends in, not just a school. But aside from the city where I went to college, the Internet, unusual music and books were my refuge. I discovered that sometimes in books, emotions were something other than villified. We shouldn't be raising children in a world where this is a revelation.
But of course, the things that kept me alive are all demonized now. And the kids relying on those things for survival are about to be more alone than ever. Because the clothes that make them feel beautiful won't be allowed in schools or homes, the books that let their imaginations save them from the stupid tortures of high school will be banned, the music that feels the way they feel will be even harder to find, and the computer that lets them talk to people who are actually like them will be unplugged.
And we can all sit around here at slashdot and say "wow, isn't this cathartic!" or "isn't it meaningful that in the wake of such a disgusting crime at least we can start talking about these issues." Guess what? the only people listening are the people like us. And we're not the ones who need to be listening. We need to find the courage to keep talking, but we need to be talking to the people who weren't/aren't like us.
I am twenty-six years old. I have a cool job (yay professional geeks!) and a good life that has very little to do with my particular growing pains. I know a lot of people who aren't so lucky, who as adults are still crippled by the cruelties of childhood. I think most people make that their fault -- but honestly, I cannot believe a child (or a former child) should ever be held accountable for receiving the message that they weren't worthy of love or respect, even from themselves.
Tonight, I'm going to take the time to write letters to the teachers I had growing up who did listen -- there were thankfully one or two -- and thank them. I'm also going to take time to write to the administrators at the schools I attended, not with a list of my particular bitter memories (that's for you folks), but just to remind them that in our hunt for potentially dangerous youth, we musn't destroy all the creative, intellectual or eccentric youth as well. I don't know what I'll say yet. I hope it's more coherent than this. But I also hope, if you've read this far, you'll do the same.
Today, I spent far too much of my work day visiting this site, because a friend had pointed me to the John Katz piece. It made me cry. I suppose that's embarassing.
For most of my education I attended an all-girls private school in NYC. At age six, girls knew enough about social stratification to say I was half as good as them because I was skinny, knobby-kneed and in their world, poor. By junior high, they'd beat me up for getting a good part in the school play. And by eighth grade students and teachers alike screamed at me daily for being inappropriate because I would cry when students told me I was ugly and didn't deserve to exist. I was constantly thrown out of classrooms for standing up for myself, when the girls who started it would never be punished. There was an award the school gave out, ostensibly to the girl with the most community service. God, I wanted that stupid silver cup, and I was a shoe-in for it, but I didn't get it -- it was given instead to a student who had less achievement in this area than me but whose demeanor was deamed more representative of the school. Couldn't have an award winner who didn't smile just right in the school fundraising magazine I guess.
You've heard it all before, right? Miserable, lonely and not only did no one care, no one believed. They still don't.
My final years of high school were finished out at a specalized public school. I knew, maybe ten people, all nerds like me. But everyone knew me -- the girl with the funny clothes, the girl who must be anorexic she's so thin (I have a heart condition that affects my weight), the girl who tries to fit in with the goth kids but is too shy even to talk to them.
I can't tell you college was much different. People would call me and threaten to rape me because I was dating a woman. People hissed at me in the halls because of funny clothes I'd wear to clubs, or my gay friends, or the fact that I was the only non-Christian on my floor.
But by college I had a choice. I had a city to make friends in, not just a school. But aside from the city where I went to college, the Internet, unusual music and books were my refuge. I discovered that sometimes in books, emotions were something other than villified. We shouldn't be raising children in a world where this is a revelation.
But of course, the things that kept me alive are all demonized now. And the kids relying on those things for survival are about to be more alone than ever. Because the clothes that make them feel beautiful won't be allowed in schools or homes, the books that let their imaginations save them from the stupid tortures of high school will be banned, the music that feels the way they feel will be even harder to find, and the computer that lets them talk to people who are actually like them will be unplugged.
And we can all sit around here at slashdot and say "wow, isn't this cathartic!" or "isn't it meaningful that in the wake of such a disgusting crime at least we can start talking about these issues." Guess what? the only people listening are the people like us. And we're not the ones who need to be listening. We need to find the courage to keep talking, but we need to be talking to the people who weren't/aren't like us.
I am twenty-six years old. I have a cool job (yay professional geeks!) and a good life that has very little to do with my particular growing pains. That said, tonight, I'm going to take the time to write letters to the teachers I had growing up who did listen -- there were thankfully one or two -- and thank them. I'm also going to take time to write to the administrators at the schools I attended, not with a list of my particular bitter memories (that's for you folks), but just to remind them that in our hunt for potentially dangerous youth, we musn't destroy all the creative, intellectual or eccentric youth as well. I don't know what I'll say yet. I hope it's more coherent than this. But I also hope, if you've read this far, you'll do the same.
Slashdot Mirror
There's all these "women's sites" out there, but far far fewer "men's sites." Does gender neutral mean male? Do women have special needs? And what's the deal with these women's sites anyway? I know I never got online to buy lipstick and bitch that my man won't take out the garbage. When will both women and men realize that we don't want to be coddled, and that the development of women-only areas of the Internet hasn't happened so women can feel safe, but so that women can find some space where they aren't condescended to?
I'm sick of being merely a misunderstood marketing phenomenon.
1. WAVE needs to create student advisory groups to express concerns and report on how this proram is actually effecting their schools. WAVE needs to go out of their way to recruit a broad cross-section of kids -- not the just the leaders, popular and comfortable kids. And WAVE needs to really listen to what they say. This needs to be more than a PR measure.
2. WAVE needs to create lists of things other than danger signs. WAVE needs to create lists of things that are NOT danger signs and that they will as policy not act on. Things that should be included in this list include fashion statements, shyness, individuality, an interest in computers, religious and sexual preference, etc.
3. If WAVE is going to be in schools, it needs to get into the business of education. WAVE needs to institute peer-led tolerance initiatives that support individuality, free speach and a persecution-free school environment for all students.
4. WAVE must eliminate all rewards for reports to its hotline.
5. WAVE needs to make clear that no student will ever be considered a suspect by it or the school it is opperating in for choosing not to participate in WAVE programs.
6. WAVE needs institute anonymous hotlines for kids to call to express their anger, frustration and sadness.
7. While WAVE should protect the identities of those who make reports, WAVE should not allow anonymous reports. False, malicious reports should be investigated and disciplined.
8. WAVE should create mentoring programs open to all students that will pair them with a young adult who can relate to their concerns and act as an advocate for them outside of the heated worlds of family and classroom.
9. WAVE should create youth-led education programs for parents on youth culture so that they can make informed decisions about their kids interests versus relying on paranoid innaccurate news briefs (remember the great goth scare?)
10. WAVE should commit itself to an open records policy that would allow anyone, of any age, to get statistics on reports to WAVE and their validity and the consequences of both valid and invalid reports.
11. WAVE needs to re-position itself in a pro-youth way. Adolescence is not a crime. This proram needs to get on the side of youth, not on the side of adult's media-induced paranoia.
12. No program like this should be run by a for-profit organization. Because fear sells, any for-profit organization running a program like this is going to engage in unethical behaviors whether they intend to or not.
13. WAVE should agree to submit to a watchdog group. Slashdot'ers (or whoever) should get together to create a group that would serve as a watchdog over programs like WAVE, censorware and other initiatives that are anti-youth, anti-technology and anti-freedom of information. If children aren't exposed to the real world, how the hell are they supposed to learn to live in it?
One of my oldest friends is a teacher. Last night she told me what's been going on in her school. Teachers are scared of the freaks, they are whispering about who to watch out for in the teachers lounge, and my friend spoke up and said "I was a goth. And a nerd. And miserable and suicidal because I wasn't doing what everyone else was doing. So I graduated, went to college and came to NY, and now you're telling me, that kids who are the way I was terrify you. I know plenty of goths, I've been to the clubs, and you couldn't find a group of more harmless people. It's just about sensuality. Wait, that scares you too." Her fellow teachers just looked at her in shock and horror anyway. How can it be that education these days is only for those that don't explore?
Anyway, I've got friends going to their local school board meetings, and writing their alma maters and spreading the word.
We will change this stuff.
I won't argue about fraternities with you, as I was in a very small regional sorority in college that was quite a-typical, but I will say I graduated from GWU, and it was not a happy shiney place. I think the biggest downside to fraternities is that they often encourage people not to see what is going on in their community outside of the fraternity or sorority. GWU was a pretty hate-filled place when I was there ('90-'94) and I hope those years were an aberation - but I received one too many rape threats and saw one too many friends gay bashed not to say something.
For most of my education I attended an all-girls private school in NYC. At age six, girls knew enough about social stratification to say I was half as good as them because I was skinny, knobby-kneed and in their world, poor. By junior high, they'd beat me up for getting a good part in the school play. And by eighth grade students and teachers alike screamed at me daily for being inappropriate because I would cry when students told me I was ugly and didn't deserve to exist. I was constantly thrown out of classrooms for standing up for myself, when the girls who started it would never be punished. There was an award the school gave out, ostensibly to the girl with the most community service. God, I wanted that stupid silver cup, and I was a shoe-in for it, but I didn't get it -- it was given instead to a student who had less achievement in this area than me but whose demeanor was deamed more representative of the school. Couldn't have an award winner who didn't smile just right in the school fundraising magazine I guess.
You've heard it all before, right? Miserable, lonely and not only did no one care, no one believed.
My final years of high school were finished out at a specalized public school. I knew, maybe ten people, all nerds like me. But everyone knew me -- the girl with the funny clothes, the girl who must be anorexic she's so thin (I have a heart condition that affects my weight), the girl who tries to fit in with the goth kids but is too shy even to talk to them.
I can't tell you college was much different. People would call me and threaten to rape me because I was dating a woman. People hissed at me in the halls because of funny clothes I'd wear to clubs, or my gay friends, or the fact that I was the only non-Christian on my floor.
But by college I had a choice. I had a city to make friends in, not just a school. But aside from the city where I went to college, the Internet, unusual music and books were my refuge. I discovered that sometimes in books, emotions were something other than villified. We shouldn't be raising children in a world where this is a revelation.
But of course, the things that kept me alive are all demonized now. And the kids relying on those things for survival are about to be more alone than ever. Because the clothes that make them feel beautiful won't be allowed in schools or homes, the books that let their imaginations save them from the stupid tortures of high school will be banned, the music that feels the way they feel will be even harder to find, and the computer that lets them talk to people who are actually like them will be unplugged.
And we can all sit around here at slashdot and say "wow, isn't this cathartic!" or "isn't it meaningful that in the wake of such a disgusting crime at least we can start talking about these issues." Guess what? the only people listening are the people like us. And we're not the ones who need to be listening. We need to find the courage to keep talking, but we need to be talking to the people who weren't/aren't like us.
I am twenty-six years old. I have a cool job (yay professional geeks!) and a good life that has very little to do with my particular growing pains. I know a lot of people who aren't so lucky, who as adults are still crippled by the cruelties of childhood. I think most people make that their fault -- but honestly, I cannot believe a child (or a former child) should ever be held accountable for receiving the message that they weren't worthy of love or respect, even from themselves.
Tonight, I'm going to take the time to write letters to the teachers I had growing up who did listen -- there were thankfully one or two -- and thank them. I'm also going to take time to write to the administrators at the schools I attended, not with a list of my particular bitter memories (that's for you folks), but just to remind them that in our hunt for potentially dangerous youth, we musn't destroy all the creative, intellectual or eccentric youth as well. I don't know what I'll say yet. I hope it's more coherent than this. But I also hope, if you've read this far, you'll do the same.
For most of my education I attended an all-girls private school in NYC. At age six, girls knew enough about social stratification to say I was half as good as them because I was skinny, knobby-kneed and in their world, poor. By junior high, they'd beat me up for getting a good part in the school play. And by eighth grade students and teachers alike screamed at me daily for being inappropriate because I would cry when students told me I was ugly and didn't deserve to exist. I was constantly thrown out of classrooms for standing up for myself, when the girls who started it would never be punished. There was an award the school gave out, ostensibly to the girl with the most community service. God, I wanted that stupid silver cup, and I was a shoe-in for it, but I didn't get it -- it was given instead to a student who had less achievement in this area than me but whose demeanor was deamed more representative of the school. Couldn't have an award winner who didn't smile just right in the school fundraising magazine I guess.
You've heard it all before, right? Miserable, lonely and not only did no one care, no one believed. They still don't.
My final years of high school were finished out at a specalized public school. I knew, maybe ten people, all nerds like me. But everyone knew me -- the girl with the funny clothes, the girl who must be anorexic she's so thin (I have a heart condition that affects my weight), the girl who tries to fit in with the goth kids but is too shy even to talk to them.
I can't tell you college was much different. People would call me and threaten to rape me because I was dating a woman. People hissed at me in the halls because of funny clothes I'd wear to clubs, or my gay friends, or the fact that I was the only non-Christian on my floor.
But by college I had a choice. I had a city to make friends in, not just a school. But aside from the city where I went to college, the Internet, unusual music and books were my refuge. I discovered that sometimes in books, emotions were something other than villified. We shouldn't be raising children in a world where this is a revelation.
But of course, the things that kept me alive are all demonized now. And the kids relying on those things for survival are about to be more alone than ever. Because the clothes that make them feel beautiful won't be allowed in schools or homes, the books that let their imaginations save them from the stupid tortures of high school will be banned, the music that feels the way they feel will be even harder to find, and the computer that lets them talk to people who are actually like them will be unplugged.
And we can all sit around here at slashdot and say "wow, isn't this cathartic!" or "isn't it meaningful that in the wake of such a disgusting crime at least we can start talking about these issues." Guess what? the only people listening are the people like us. And we're not the ones who need to be listening. We need to find the courage to keep talking, but we need to be talking to the people who weren't/aren't like us.
I am twenty-six years old. I have a cool job (yay professional geeks!) and a good life that has very little to do with my particular growing pains. That said, tonight, I'm going to take the time to write letters to the teachers I had growing up who did listen -- there were thankfully one or two -- and thank them. I'm also going to take time to write to the administrators at the schools I attended, not with a list of my particular bitter memories (that's for you folks), but just to remind them that in our hunt for potentially dangerous youth, we musn't destroy all the creative, intellectual or eccentric youth as well. I don't know what I'll say yet. I hope it's more coherent than this. But I also hope, if you've read this far, you'll do the same.