One of the very common and very annoying arguments against gay marriage/parenting or voluntary non-parenthood is that, without children, our society will be doomed. (Western) culture will crumble and our society will fall into disaster, just as the Romans once did. While I agree with the idea that children are a necessary part of the propagation of the human species (hard to get past biological fact and all), I question the idea that without constant growth, we will all perish.
In my last post, I delved into my personal body image issues quite deeply. The pressures I faced urging me to be thinner all the time seemed to come from my family and friends. However, this is too simplistic an approach. Obviously, the impetus to be thin has to come from somewhere. In fact, we have an entire cultural dialogue surrounding the perceived need to be thin, sexy and consumable at all times. We have constructed a world in which thin is healthy, beautiful and the only worthwhile state to be in. Every advertisement screams this at us every day of our lives in North America and anyone can see this societal obsession manifested upon opening a newspaper or magazine. And that’s just what I did. The following articles are just a few of the most recent badly written and misunderstood interpretations on fat that I have found in the Canadian media within the past week or so.
When I was little, I was so proud of the fact that I was one of the biggest kids in my class. I was tall and strong! I could run fast and lift heavy things. I could keep up with and out do all the little boys at anything we choose to do at recess. I wanted, more than anything, to be the biggest, tallest person at my school. I took up space and loved being alive.
TRIGGER WARNING for disordered eating/eating disorders underneath the cut.
Last week, I turned 24 years old. I had assumed that this was a fairly unimportant milestone. I was past 21, but not quite at a quarter century. I like these types of birthdays because no one is harassing you to throw age specific parties that involve things that I dislike immensely. Well, I have discovered that I was terribly wrong. Turning 24 has placed me in the “legitimate” age range for having lots and lots of babies.
As a society, we have many heroes. We shower them with affection, commendation, and praise. We talk about how they have changed our lives and how they have made the world a better place. However, sometimes the greatest heroes are the ones that we never talk about. Sometimes the most amazing people are the ones we forget. That is why I am starting a sporadic series of posts about brilliant people who deserve more attention than what they currently receive and I can think of no better feminist Canadian example to start with than Muriel McQueen Fergusson.