One of the consistent arguments against progressive legislation, from both some conservatives and some radicals is that you can't legislate changes in attitude, and that changes in attitude will drive better, more equitable practices and policies. Policy alone fails to address inequity, and can create a backlash when it seems to require accommodations or changes that some people perceive to be unnecessary or that threaten people's status or ideas.

I don't get why attitude/policy is an "or" question. I believe that you can both create (and enforce) policies, such as equitable hiring policies, that address injustice and educate and communicate to change attitudes. Furthermore, if you really want anything to change, you need to do both, at the same time. You need to craft policies, such as accessibility policies, or diversity policies, or harassment-free workplace policies, that address inequities. You need to enforce these policies. But you also need to provide the people responsible for enforcement with the training and support they need to understand what the policies are supposed to accomplish and the issues that drove the creation of the policies. In addition, and most importantly, institutional support for the policies and the philosophies driving them needs to come from the top. If the powers in charge of an organization do not fully and intelligently support a policy, then the people responsible for implementing it will, at best, not have access to the resources they need, and at worst, wittingly or unwittingly undermine it. The problem is not whether you should use policy or education to change the status quo. It's how you should use each to reinforce and promote the other. You have to do both.

Over at FWD/Forward, Abby Jean succinctly and intelligently explains why it's not enough to make policies that encode principles based in social justice:

For an easy example, imagine a company with a policy that required that all newly hired employees be informed about their right to workplace accommodations for mental or physical disabilities. The company works with disability rights groups to create a pamphlet outlining who is eligible for accommodations, what potential accommodations may be available, and the procedure for requesting accommodations and documenting a need for them. The disability rights groups make sure all the information is correct, that the pamphlet is available in alternative formats so it’s accessible, and that it emphasizes that accommodations are an employee’s right, rather than a bonus provided by the company. It is, in short, the perfect pamphlet.

Now imagine how much depends on the person who hands that pamphlet to the new employee. Take one scenario: the employee goes through a complete orientation and then is asked to wait in the lobby. When the employee asks why, the receptionist sighs “oh, it’s some stupid thing required by company policy. Just wait.” After 15 minutes, the designated human resources staffer comes out and thrusts the pamphlet at the employee, saying “Here, take this. It’s something I have to give you for policy. You have to sign here to show that I gave it to you.” When the employee asks what the pamphlet is about, the staffer replies “Oh something we have to do for disability, or whatever. Nobody is ever stupid enough to ask for any of these things, believe me.”

 

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I haven't posted about the wedding in Ottawa, mostly because other people have, and I've been swallowed by my life.

I received the beautiful invitation from commodorified , fairestcat , random , and rayne in the mail, after mycrazyhair  warned me it would be coming, and I arranged to take two whole days off work to travel to Ottawa with her, despite my trepidation about travelling the week before the Dance Flurry, meeting new people in general, and weddings in general.

We had an awesome trip. I am really glad I got to see the MacFlails get married, to dance with them (and with dagibbs—finally!); and to visit audrawilliams and see human_loser once more before he vanished back to the west; to experience the most breathtakingly epicurean vegetarian cuisine I have ever eaten, to hang out and breakfast with toft , curgoth , and neeuqdrazil ; to meet whole bunches of very interesting, kind, funny people; and to dress up pretty and dance with my girl.

To the MacFlails: It was lovely to meet those I met, to spend some time with you, to witness your marriage, and to laugh and danc

Thanks to the MacFlails for inviting me, for having an awesome wedding, and for providing me with an opportunity for such a very enjoyable weekend. commodorified , you sure know how to make a girl feel welcomed and appreciated (or at least ogled). You are a lovely, lovely family, and I'm so glad to have witnessed your beautiful wedding.

dagibbs , after all that geeking out at various parties, it was lovely to finally dance with you—thanks for taking me out on Saturday night. Thanks to neeuqdrazil  for driving us all home.

And mycrazyhair  wins an AWESOME SWEETIE award for organizing everything, and being generally awesome.

My life, it does not suck.

Get a load of me, fashion blogging!

Not that I'm especially fashionable—I'm not. I do spend an awful lot of time figuring out what to wear, thinking about clothes and style, and finding fun things to wear. So every now and again, I am going to opine on clothes, style, and accessories. Mostly my own, because I can take whatever I dish out.*

( Cut for fashion blather. )

* Also because while I certainly notice what other people wear, and have been known to have opinions, ultimately, I'm not into actively criticizing people. Helping a friend shop for something wonderful, and telling them when that thing is not as wonderful on them as they might prefer? Fun and fair. Ridiculing or criticizing other people's choices? Less fun. People choose their clothes for a variety of reasons, and it's not my job to belittle them for that.

Dear Co-workers,

No, thank-you, I didn't want or need any help unloading the dishwasher and loading all the dishes from this morning into it. How nice of the five of you who came in and out of the kitchen while I was doing so to ask me. I really do enjoy putting other people's dirty away—it makes such a nice break from my day. I especially appreciated the non-assistance from the person who saw me sorting the cutlery, and put her own dirty plate in the now-empty dishwasher, apparently unaware of the mountain of other people's dirty plates and bowls and cutlery on the counter. After all, it's a shared kitchen, so we should all do our part creating a mess for someone to clean up. And I had absolutely nothing better to do—I didn't have more than 152 e-mails to deal with, or 24 features to check, and my schedules are all totally up to date. I was just emptying and reloading the dishwasher with other people's dishes in order to pass the time.

So, thanks so much for asking the way you didn't. Your concern and fellow feeling totally made my Monday.

No love,
-z.

She's totally right:
( Comic below cut. )
Bad grammar kills the mood.

I link because I care.

In other vaguely related news, a team of researchers at King's College, London, have failed to find experimental support for the existence of the G-spot. They studied 1,800 women. Half of the women were pairs of identical twins; half were pairs of non-identical twins.

If one [G-spot] did exist, it would be expected that both identical twins, who have the same genes, would report having one.

But this pattern did not emerge and the identical twins were no more likely to share a G-spot than non-identical twins who share only half of their genes.

I'm not sure about the methodology of this study, though. If you're dealing with a subjective mechanism for gathering data—individual reports of personal experience—how do you control for differing sexual experiences between women (even—gasp—women with similar appearances)? Presumably the breadth of the study would in some wise address this. Among that many women, researchers might expect some trends to emerge, I guess.

Personally, I like what Dr. Petra Boynton (who appears to be the Beeb's pet sexologist; whenever they report on G-spots or other aspects of women's sexuality, she seems to give them a nice quote) has to say about the entire question of a G-spot: "It's fine to go looking for the G-spot but do not worry if you don't find it."

Other research suggests that some women do have a G-spot and some don't. A much less comprehensive Italian study in 2008 used ultrasound to locate an area of thicker tissue in the vaginas of women who reported having powerful orgasms when that area was stimulated. The study examined 20 women (I did say it was much less comprehensive! However, it wins skience points for using ultrasound.)

Ultrasound was used to measure the size and shape of the tissue beyond the "front" wall of the vagina, often suggested as the location of the G spot.

In the nine women who reported being able to achieve vaginal orgasm, the tissues between the vagina and the urethra - which carries urine out of the body - were on average thicker than in the 11 women who could not reach orgasm this way.

Again, Dr. Boynton gives sensible advice for those worried about their girly bits (or those of their partners):

"We're all different. Some women will have certain area within the vagina which will be very sensitive, and some won't - but they won't necessarily be in the area called the G spot.

"If a woman spends all her time worrying about whether she is normal, or has a G spot or not, she will focus on just one area, and ignore everything else.

"It's telling people that there is a single, best way to have sex, which isn't the right thing to do."

If I were superstitious, I'd be feeling very nervous about tomorrow's concert, right now.

Last night's dress rehearsal went really well. I'm kind of excited about tomorrow's performance. The soloists are excellent, the ensemble sounds good (even if we don't have any tympani), and the choir is pretty darned good, if I do say so myself.

The superstition goes that a good dress means a bad opening night. I don't buy it one little bit. It's such a relief when a good performance follows an awful dress that I think people remember those instances, and have, by process of inversion, created a superstition around the q. In consequence, I'm just plain happy to be singing this great music and sharing it with people.

(If you're in Toronto, you really should consider coming. Really. There are trumpets!)

Come hear neeuqdrazil and me and about 180 other people, plus orchestra, sing Bach!

What: Selections from J.S. Bach's Christmas Oratorio, sung LIVE!
When: Wednesday, December 16, 7:30 P.M.
Where: Eastminster United Church, across from Carrot Common, Toronto
Who: The 200-or-so voice Toronto Choral Society, with the Talisker Players, organist William O'Meara, and accomplished soloists Melanie Conly, Adriana Albu, and Anthony Cleverton, all conducted by Geoffrey Butler
Why: 'Tis the season, apparently. Also, it's what we do. Furthermore, Bach is awesome.
How Much: $20 if you buy tickets from me, $25 if you buy them at the door, $21 if you buy them online (please credit me, if you do, so I can meet my sales quota!)

Be nice to see you there! 

Do I have to read Twilight in order to have an informed opinion of Monica Hesse's theory concerning why smart, literate, feminist women find themselves being bitten by Meyer's execrable prose and frightening worldview [warning, link contains some abelist slurs]?

In "Twilight," Edward Cullen waffled between wooing and eating new girl Bella Swan. He chose love. In "New Moon," the darkest installment of the series, Edward becomes convinced that his girlfriend would be safer without him, so he dumps her in order to protect her and then vanishes. Bella, catatonic from the pain, finds solace in Jacob Black, the devoted friend who has just learned he is a werewolf, and their relationship grows deeper, and this description is utterly, utterly useless because none of it gets at what the "Twilight" series is actually about, which is being 17.

It's a time capsule to the breathless period when the world could literally end depending on whether your lab partner touched your hand, when every conversation was so agonizing and so thrilling (and the border between the two emotions was so thin), and your heart was bigger and more delicate than it is now, and everything was just so much more.

I'm not sure I want to be reminded about being 17. I was really dumb then. Yes, things mattered more, but they hurt a lot more too, almost all the time, and I'm pretty sure I was insufferable.

So I'm pretty sure I shouldn't read Twilight, which is good, because I've no desire to. But I don't fault those who do. After all, I like Die Hard movies.

I cooked and baked a lot this weekend!

Saturday morning, I decided to try the first recipe from the cake issue of <i>Fine Baking</i> I picked up a couple of weeks ago, so I made a puff pancake for Sabo and me. A puff pancake is not unlike a really large, fine-textured Yorkshire pudding, with maple syrup and raspberry sauce: you mix eggs, flour, melted butter, milk, baking soda and powder together all at once, pour the batter into a skillet or pan into which you have melted a bit more butter, and bake it until it's puffy and golden. Takes about 20 minutes. It was remarkable! It puffed right up the sides of the pan! So good!

Then, Saturday night, I mixed up the gingerbread cookie mix that a friend gave me for Christmas last year, and made gingerbread pumpkins, bats, and cats to take to the dance for snacks. I overcooked a tray, and had to sacrifice it, which was sad, but the rest of the cookies were lovely.

This morning, I made second Fine Cooking recipe: Fastest-ever Cinnamon Buns. These were not as fast as the puff pancake, but as a sweet quick-dough (more like a scone or biscuit dough than a bread dough), they were ready in about an hour, and were lovely with coffee.

The cinnamon bun dough used cottage cheese, so I had a bunch of cottage cheese left. At the greengrocer's today, I also bought a butternut squash and some rapini (I had wanted rapini last week, and couldn't find it; today it was everywhere!) So I combined the squash and the cottage cheese in butternut squash gnocchi, which I tossed in browned butter with sage, garlic, button mushrooms, and shallot; I served this with rapini sautéed with garlic, sesame oil, hot pepper flakes, and lemon juice. Alas, I got so engrossed in the butter for the gnocchi that I let the rapini get a bit overcooked; instead of bright green it was to paraphrase Deborah Madison's tactful phrasing, a bit more tender and dark.

Oh yeah, I also made a mushroom omelette for Sunday lunch!

I love my kitchen.

Scientific knowledge is based on empirical evidence, and is appropriate for understanding the natural world, but it provides only a limited understanding of the supernatural, aesthetic, or other ways of knowing, such as art, philosophy, or religion.1

Here follows a very short rant. Maybe a rantlet.

This bothers me. It's a clear nod to the godbodies—we don't have apologia or disclaimers in the math standards, the history standards, or the geography standards. We don't have to say that an understanding of literary conventions in English will help you to understand and interpret texts written in English and literary traditions that share a similar cultural background, but may not be easily applied to an understanding of the narrative traditions of a non-literary culture (though perhaps we should!).

What do you all think of this?

1 From the Florida Standards for Science Education, Grade 7. It is, of course, not the only standard, nor even the most important.