I'm In Gregg Doyel's Hate Mail Again

So, while I critiqued Gregg Doyel in my last post, I have generally come to enjoy some aspects of his work. Sometimes he's willing to say things that otherwise don't get said. I assume this is, at least in part, to get conversation going. It's typically easier to get that going by saying something extreme or something unorthodox. Unfortunately, in the case of his column on the WNBA the other day, it was something that, while creating conversation, can actually be too orthodox as to be dismissive. Other times, though, it can be much more compelling.

As part of this, I've learned to appreciate his weekly Hate Mail responses to readers for what they often are--friendly banter. I suppose I've come to this appreciation in part simply because Gregg has included me and responded to my comments several times in Hate Mail over the last two years. It started off rather rocky, but for my part I have come to appreciate it. And I'm sure that's at least in part because it feeds my ego to get the public attention.

With that in mind, I was in Hate Mail again this past week, coincidentally enough with a comment that involves gender. One might argue that my comment to Gregg undermines my critique of him, but I'd say it doesn't. The argument that male/female and masculinity/femininity are constructions doesn't mean people can't struggle with identifying with them. Indeed, because these constructs are so deeply embedded in our society, many people do struggle with identifying with them, at least in part because society asks us so heavily to do so. Indeed, the need to identify with what society sees as feminine has been a significant obstacle for many female athletes throughout the history of American sports. And the need to identify with what society sees as masculine has led many men to pursue violent and aggressive interests out of a sense of feeling the need to show or prove their masculinity. Some readings of Hemingway suggest that various aspects of his life--including the heavy interests in bullfighting and baseball--reflected that same kind of struggle.

Women in the NBA: Sometimes I'm Embarrassed to Be Identified as a Man

You may have heard or read that a couple of weeks ago, in response to a question about it from Sports Illustrated reporter Ian Thomsen, David Stern asserted that he believes a woman playing in the NBA is "well within the range of possibility." Predictably, many a person has sounded off on this subject to dismiss the idea, using all sorts of arguments based in biological determinism, jeremiads about political correctness, and various other avenues for suggesting that there is no way a woman will ever play in the NBA. Just see Thomsen's mailbag from a week ago for some of these kinds of comments and argument, many of which are dismissive of the idea, and one of which characterizes Thomsen's article on Stern's comments as such "nonsense" that the author has stated that he or she will no longer read Thomsen's work. Today, Gregg Doyel added to this long list of dismissive arguments, with this column, in which he states flatly that he's not being "sexist"; he's just being "right."

I was planning on writing about this subject anyway as my semester came to a close and I qould finally have some time to get back to this blog. Then, given that I have a history of correspondence with Gregg, I wrote to him today in response to his column on the subject. In lieu of writing something additional when I think I summed it up in my message, here's the text of my message to Gregg:

Gregg,

Theories of biology upon which arguments against women's possibilities lie are inadequate to begin with. As many a transgendered person can tell you, the binary split of people into man-woman is not a complete picture of reality. It is a system of classification that was developed by people and that, in Western society, as well as other societies, has been used as the basis to relegate men and women to different positions with different opportunities time and again. Indeed, the whole biological theory itself is a theory built in Western science, created by men who already believed that the difference between men and women existed. They did not study things and then come to that belief; they already believed it ... just like many white Europeans developing scientific theories throughout the ages already believed that biological racial differences existed and, thus, their theories and discoveries reflected that starting-point belief that they already assumed as taken for granted from the beginning, thus perpetuating racism in the process. The man-women split does the same kind of thing and then has been used throughout the ages to perpetuate denial of opportunities, rights, and privileges based on this distinction. Over time, those differences have made it so that men and women, from the time they are conceived, are already positioned to do, think, and feel different things by society. Only recently has this been in any way challenged to any kind of an effective extent, and even with that, there is plenty still to rethink and reexamine. In the end, perhaps there are some general biological differences that might be noted between the group of people considered "men" and the group of people considered "women," but to out and out say one knows these differences without having really accounted for the years of social distinctions that contributed to these distinctions is to perpetuate the system that discriminates against women by closing off a possibility before it is even allowed to develop. In a word, it perpetuates sexism, and, thus, the kinds of biological deterministic arguments that you have put forth that close off this possibility of being examined are sexist.

You’re not alone, as your message board (to which I posted this same response almost verbatim) reflects, many would buy the biological argument—including people of various genders. And that is not to say that one can’t believe that biology makes a difference in men's and women's aptitudes. Perhaps it could ultimately be found to have some legitimacy … but perhaps not as well. And that’s the problem. The argument as you and so many others articulate it already assumes its full legitimacy and, thus, closes off the door to even entertaining another possibility, though that possibility may turn out to be legitimate. In the process, the vocalization of this argument not as “I believe” but as “I know,” as you have done in your column, rests on assuming what is a belief to be a truth, and in the process it becomes a significant part of the system of the oppression of women. 100 or even 50 or even 30 years ago, many people were sure of things women could not do that they are now doing despite people making specious knowledge claims like yours. Similarly, 100 or 50 or 30 years ago, many people made similar kinds of knowledge claims about being black, or “colored,” and used them to deny opportunities, rights, privileges or even simply the possibility of imagining a different future. Yet, today, we can refute those claims quite readily.

So, in the end, yes, your argument is sexist, and I hope I’ve explained effectively to at least some degree why.

While I have singled out Gregg here to the extent that my message (and, thus, this post) is in response to his column, I do not wish to single out Gregg Doyel in the overall argument here. As I suggested in my message to him, he's nowhere near alone in believing. Additionally, Gregg Doyel didn't start this kind of argument. To a large extent, he and so many others are vocalizing what they've been taught and/or learned to think. Yet, that's exactly how sexism works. People don't believe they're being sexist; they just believe that what they believe is truth, because that's what they have learned to think. When, however, the origins and bases for these ways of thinking go unexamined, and the possibilities for other ways of thinking are summarily dismissed as "nonsense," as "stupid" (as the title of Gregg's column explicitly indicates), or other such derogation, then we have oppression. And to that extent, Gregg Doyel, the folks responding to Ian Thomsen's column, and the many various people who continue this dismissal should be held responsible for their part in perpetuating that system of oppression, and at the very least (though there is more to it than this) their arguments should be met with strong, persistent, and continuing critique.

Perhaps ... Finally ... Some Progress?

The winning streak ended today ...

The winning streak of non-white head coaching hires at FBS (Division I-A) college football programs ended today at 2. Before Bobby Bowden officially retired from Florida State University today, head coaching positions opening up this year had been 2 for 2 in hiring non-white (in each case African American) head coaches. Western Kentucky hired Willie Taggart, while Memphis hired Larry Porter. Of course, the argument could be made that the streak is still intact, since technically Jimbo Fisher had already been selected when he was made coach-in-waiting behind Bowden awhile back.

The point here is that the early returns are favorable for perhaps seeing a long-overdue increase in opportunities for non-white head coaches in FBS college football. Hopefully, this is a sign of things to come this year and in the future. I will certainly be watching.

World Series could mar Philly transit negotiations

I know, I know ... There hasn't been much on this blog lately. Please stick in there my 3 or 4 (dare I hope 5?) regular visitors. There will be more to come, hopefully soon. The semester has got me running ragged.

I do, though, have a short post for today. On ESPN.com the front webpage link to a story titled "Strike could mar Philly transit services" reads "Philly sports weekend clouded by transit talks." Don't both the title of the piece and the title of the link reflect something rather profound regarding the position of labor in contemporary United States society. At the very least, they suggest that big-time sports rank higher as a priority. Imagine if these read "World Series could mar Philly transit negotiations" and "Transit talks clouded by Philly sports weekend," respectively ...

I've Often Wondered ...

At the end of most of his Forde Yard Dash columns, ESPN's Pat Forde recommends a place to eat from a town that he visited the weekend before while reporting on college football. I've sometimes wondered, while reading his column, what place in Bowling Green, Ohio, he would pick if he ever did so. Well, this week, I received my answer, since Forde came to the BGSU-Boise State game this past Saturday (which I also attended). As Forde wrote on Tuesday, "When thirsty in the bucolic burgh of Bowling Green, Ohio, The Dash recommends a beer at Campus Quarters (40), an energetic joint across the street from Doyt Perry Stadium and the Bowling Green campus in general. The excessive country music in the place is offset nicely by a good beer selection, and it has indoor corn toss." So, there we have it: Campus Quarters, right on Wooster, just across from the Harshman Quandrangle. I guess it makes sense. It's down by the stadium area, it's a local place rather than a national or regional chain, and it has been around awhile. Now, if only DiBenedetto's hadn't just moved last spring from their same old location a couple doors down from Quarters, maybe my favorite sandwich place would have made the column instead ...

Sports are Important ... Because They're Important.

On Thursday, this story on the Detroit Tigers and the city of Detroit ran on ESPN.com, while this story on how some people in Detroit can’t even afford to bury loved ones who have died ran on CNN.com. I’ve written before on this blog about the ludicrousness of the idea that the success of sports teams translates into some kind of relief to a city or region. While there may be occasional instances in which a sports team or event has some kind of bearing along these lines to a geographical entity, the sports media plays this connection up way too often. In his Thursday column, Jerry Crasnick did exactly that. Yet, really, will the Tigers making the playoffs, or making the World Series, or winning the World Series really do anything to help alleviate problems like the inability of people to afford to bury people or the many other difficulties that a people and governments in places like Detroit faces? No. At best, the playoffs and World Series will cause a little more money to be spent in the city as people visit the city to see the games. Maybe one more big-name free agent will sign to play for the Tigers and, thus, spend a little more of his money in the city. Yet, that money will do little to assist with the economic issues the city faces. At most, taxes collected on income, property, and sales will add a little more into the hopper for the city and state governments. And when I say little, I mean really little. The amount that that will generate is miniscule in comparison to the state and city budgets and the amounts needed to improve living, working, and economic conditions in the city. So, it’s rather disingenuous for sportswriters to make these kinds of claims, and, as I said in my previous post, this all just seems like another example of the sports media justifying the importance of sport. They set up a tautological argument that at its core goes something like this: sports are important because they help geographical regions, and they help geographical regions because they are important signs of a city’s prominence and success.

And, meanwhile, a very similar kind of thing may be happening to the city of Chicago and the United States as whole in regard to the Olympics. Check out what The Agon wrote about this for more.

I love sports. I enjoy watching them. They help keep me going sometimes when I'm driving, when I'm working, and so on. But let's not kid ourselves by overestimating their significance. And let's recognize how self-serving these kinds of stories about the significance of sport can be.

Sometimes You Can't Make It Own Your Own

I became a fan of U2 in the Summer of 1988. Over a year after it came out, on a whim I bought The Joshua Tree, since it had produced three big hits. It was all part of my 15 cassettes for 1 cent or whatever the deal was for a Columbia Record and Tape Club membership at the time. I, of course, knew U2’s major hits at the time but had never been particularly enthused by then. It all changed when I listened to my new The Joshua Tree tape. I was hooked, and by that fall, when Rattle and Hum came out, U2 was my favorite band, which is where they have remained in the 21 years since then.

So, it was with excitement that finally, this past Sunday, I got to see them in concert. They kicked off the American leg of their 360º tour in Soldier Field in Chicago Saturday night. I couldn’t make it that night, but my wife and I made it to show number two in the same venue the next night. If you want to read my standard concert review of the show, it’s available here on tunesmate.com. For the purposes of this blog, I want to examine another aspect of the concert.

In particular, I found the makeup of the U2 audience interesting. When I was in high school in the late 1980s, I remember once a friend of mine wishing for a big concert to come to our area. It was a pipe dream and we all knew it, but we still found ourselves pondering it. He was thinking of the likes of Def Leppard, Bon Jovi, etc. Then, he looked at me and said something to the effect of “If it were up to you, though, we’d probably get something like U2.” It wasn’t meant to be approving of the choice, and it reflected, I think, some of the identity of U2 amid the hard rock trends of the late 1980s. That identity was furthered reflected a couple years later when, during my freshman year of college, a few guys in my dorm got into a war of words on one guy’s door that reached the level that the resident advisor had to step in. The one pair of guys might have been categorized as the “frat boy” style, while the other pair might have been categorized as part of the alternative scene. Among other things, at one point the frat boy pair wrote something on the other pair’s door disparaging them for their “U2 mushroom music.” In other words, for as big a draw as U2 had been during the period of The Joshua Tree and Rattle and Hum, the band wasn’t completely considered the kind of mainstream, stadium-busting rock that would appeal to the popular partying crowd.

The crowd on Sunday seems to have signaled that that has changed. In many ways, U2 seems to be what the Who, the Rolling Stones, the Eagles, and so on have been—one of the all-time most famous bands who have at times been considered edgy and who can sell out and rock out stadiums of 50,000-70,000 people. In many ways, given their age, their career paths, and their appeals, U2’s latest tour reminds me of the Steel Wheels tour that the Rolling Stones undertook in 1989-1990. Many in the crowd seemed to be there to drink a lot, rock out to music, and just have a good party.

While to a large extent, that’s par for the course on a stadium tour like this, this makeup of the crowd seems to become an issue of particular significance when we examine what might be called the “political” aspect of U2. While driving home from the concert, I heard a DJ on WGN radio out of Chicago talk about how he would have liked more humor and less politics at the shows this weekend, but that he was okay with the politics that U2 interjected, because that was U2; it’s part of their identity. This particularly caught my ear because I wanted them to include more politics into the performance, though I realized full well why they might not have done so. It also got me wondering how effective the political aspects of U2’s performance were.

At one point, the audience was asked to wear masks or hold up pictures of Aung San Suu Kyi, who was elected democratic leader of Burma in 1990 but was immediately overthrown by a military junta and has been under house arrest for the better part of the two decades since. The band played the song “Walk On,” which was written about her, and volunteers wearing masks surrounded the stage. Before the concert, ushers had masks available, so I had one that I had gotten then, and I held mine up throughout the song. Yet, I was clearly in the minority. I noticed one other person in my entire section wearing the mask, a few people in the next section holding them up, and a few others here and there. In fact, even though Bono had just explained who Suu Kyi was, the guy in front of my wife and I turned to my wife to ask who the picture I was holding up was.

Other aspects of the concert linked to political issues, including a message from Desmond Tutu on the big screen leading into the band playing “One” and, toward the end of the concert, Bono offering information about the amount of money that had been raised for AIDS relief in Africa. The themes of these “political moments” tended to be an emphasis on human rights, democracy, and freedom, along with a sentiment, as reflected in the song title “One” and Tutu’s speech before it, that we are all one world, needing to work together. Politically speaking, it was all pretty general stuff. I mean, this wasn’t Bono asking us to support a specific plan for national health care or a view on abortion or something else that might divide the audience in a much readier way. Yet, it is, as the WGN show host’s comments indicate, stuff that’s considered “political” (and, thus, something that is, by that perspective, to be distinguished from “entertainment,” “humor,” and any number of other categories that could be applied to the performance).

And, to some degree, I would assume U2’s efforts have some effect. My wife and I learned more about Suu Kyi during the performance. I’m sure others in the audience did as well. Yet, if the crowd participation during “Walk On” is any indication, that effect was rather limited. On the whole, it’s a rather privileged audience that went to this concert. Tickets were by no means cheap, the price of parking was pretty high, tee-shirts at the concert were $40 a pop, and that’s not even including all of the ancillary expenses that come with making the trip (and given the limited venues that the tour is playing, I’m sure many folks like me were and will be making four, five, six, or more hour trips to see a show on the tour). So, the political messages that U2 offers have potential to reach an audience that might have some money or resources to contribute to the causes of human rights, democracy, and freedom that U2 is espousing. Yet, to what degree is that limited by the audience’s motivation to care? Many of the folks didn’t seem to take particular interest in these aspects of the concert, preferring instead to take this time to get their next beer and wait for the next rocking song to which they could pump their fists and dance. Or they preferred, like the guy on WGN, to view these elements of the concert as a metaphorical mosquito—not a huge annoyance that keeps you from hanging out but just enough of an annoyance that you vocalize your displeasure. Meanwhile, for those of us who did take interest in these parts of the concert, to at least some degree, U2 was already preaching to the choir.

In the end, then, I think that generally U2’s messages about human rights, freedom, and democracy are on the whole good for the world. At the very least, my wife and I learned something important. At how many other concerts can one say that? Yet, like so many instances involving the confluence of politics and popular music, we need to recognize the limitations of the stadium rock concert as a forum for political discourse. And, perhaps, as part of that, there’s a need for voices that push society to reconsider how it thinks about that confluence. Should it be such an annoyance, and if so, toward what political ends does that sentiment serve? And, if one does listen to what U2 says, where does one go from there? Does one simply think about it, only to put it aside after the drive home, or does one donate money or time to a cause or talk about it with others after the concert? Does one take other actions?

On the back of my Aung San Suu Kyi mask, I’m offered some suggestions for action to take. The mask lists a number of websites to visit to find out how to help, including this one for the United States, this one for Canada, and this one globally. The wording in a circle on the side reads “Wear to work or college, when you’re at home drinking a cup of tea… especially to be worn at U2 shows when the band plays Walk On.” These are contextualized by the bolded quotation from Suu Kyi: “Please use your liberty to promote ours.” So, U2 is asking the privileged audience to act beyond just listening at the concert. Yet, the audience has to be motivated to even care to act in the first place. And that is where I’m concerned that things might be lacking, particularly with the current audience that U2’s tour is drawing. And it’s not that I don’t want U2 to draw this audience, nor that I think there’s no place for concerts to be about partying and listening to good music. After all, I did my fair share of dancing and singing at the show. It’s that I want that and I want more. I want a world where we can all have a good time and learn something about ourselves and other at the same time. Music seems to have that potential, but only if both sides (performer and audience) participate.