The Opposite of Real

A certain disturbing usage of the word "real" has lately come to my attention. Frankly, this word has struck me as problematic for a long time. When I was in college, people would say things like: "just wait until you graduate and have to start living in the real world." Although I could discern the intention of this statement, I still felt irritated and wished they would choose another word. College was very real to me. And as it has now been nine years since I graduated, I can say with the certainty of experience: college was as real as anything afterward... just different. But I digress. The truly icky applications of this powerful word go deeper than college vs. post-college life. 

Living the Unreal college life, circa 2005.

Consider the following phrases: "REAL men don't cry." "Real women have curves." "Chris Kyle was a REAL American hero." "REAL Christians___" (fill in the blank). 

In one sense, there is absolutely nothing wrong with these statements; there ARE men who don't cry, women who are curvy, Americans who kill and die for their country, and Christians who___. The serious issue comes to light when one contemplates what is meant, in each case, by the opposite of real. There are several possibilities, as you can see from the dictionary definition above, including fake, imaginary, and even nonexistent... which (I feel) is the most harmful. I've heard the word "real" used to attack a person's most fundamental sense of identity, be it gender, nationality, religion, etc. To state that a certain section of the population is "real" automatically creates an opposite population that is either fake, imaginary, or nonexistent. I think it is often used without sufficient forethought, and not always intended to injure... at least not consciously. But I do believe that the applications of "real" should be reconsidered. There is surely a better way to assert one's validity that does not involve negating the other (the perceived threat to oneself). 

Original Sundance poster.

Real Women Have Curves. Have you seen this film? I saw it many years ago, just after it was released. I thought it was a wonderful movie and I very much enjoyed it. That has not changed. However, the title always made me feel a little strange, and it took some time before I understood why. As a girl who has never been what you could call "busty" (in fact, bras are rendered useless on my body), it gave me the sense that I lacked an essential ingredient in the recipe of *woman.* Now, some might say that I don't know what it's like to be a bigger girl, and that I should not complain since I am thin and our culture is obsessed with thinness. I agree, that obsession is a serious problem. However, I stand strong in my opinion: cannot we both... alll... be real? What if a woman could be a woman simply because she feels like one? I would like to live in a world where that was true. 

The case is similar for a man who cries; he should be allowed to exist as a man because he says he's a man.... whether or not he sheds tears. (Actually, the statement "real men don't cry" is degrading to women as well as men, as it implies that the man in question is really more of a female... horror of horrors).

Below are two photos from a series by Howard Schatz documenting the very different body types of professional athletes. I think they are quite powerful when it comes to conversations about what physical attributes make a woman "womanly," because it's clear how silly that proposition even is. ALL these women are "real" women. 

Professional women athletes fig. 1

Professional women athletes fig. 2

Once again, in using Chris Kyle (of recent American Sniper fame) as an example, my intention is NOT to claim that he wasn't a "real" American. Of course he was. But the implication is that those who choose not to kill and die for this country are not Americans. I am one of those people. Am I not an american? Does being American involve denying the existence of those whose opinions we do not agree with? What a sad thought that is. But certainly human beings have been using this strategy of negation for thousands of years. One of the most consistently problematic and destructive uses of this word (and the idea it represents) is in the context of religion. Wars are fought routinely for the proclaimed purpose of defending the "real" god. Even within a religion, members of different sects or denominations often claim a monopoly on "realness" that can be extremely hurtful to others. In all these cases, the implications of "fake," "imaginary," or "nonexistent" take aim at the most integral ways we define our existence. 

Annunciation as mystic hunt, circle of Martin Schongauer, 1450-1491.

I sincerely hope that we all can be a little more careful with this word REAL... it is such an important word, which is why it is also such a dangerous one.

Doing "Right-Right"

... ... ... Medieval-style.

I have been feeling weighed down lately by the many conflicts that seem to mark this year. Between countries, between religions, between races, between genders, between friends, between family members... and of course the undeniable conflicts within myself. For a number of reasons, mortality has also been a subject of thought for me these days. Although such contemplations are not easy or pain-free, I am grateful for their presence... I am indeed learning much and gaining patience.

Arhia, Rhiannon, Goat, Annwn.

When I was a child, I spent the majority of my time playing with big sister Rhiannon. She was the strong one, the imagination genie, the adventure warrior, and the one upon whom I modeled myself. I would have been utterly at a loss without her; she made my childhood what it was. A fight between us was rare--- she was a leader, I was a follower, we liked our positions, and I didn't often feel a need to oppose her. But inevitably a tiff occurred... and then woe betide me. Of course I am lucky. Annwn was much oftener the one left out. But alas I can only speak to my own experience, so I will say: it was hell being in the shadow of Rhiannon's frown. To make me understand the true meaning of my sin, whatever that may have been, Rhiannon would attach herself to Annwn instead and enact a little maneuver we called "Doing Right-Right." The tactic is simple: #1 (Rhiannon) shuns all communication with #2 (Arhia), making sure to rub her fantastic relationship with #3 (Annwn) in #2's face. Secret whispers and derisive laughs abound. Many a time #2 and #3 were switched up, as I said above, but of course I don't remember this clearly--- such is the human mind! The game was ridiculously effective, aka hurtful. Once upon a time I thought this was an invention of my tribe, but now I've come to understand it is a common practice among children... though perhaps known by another name.

Sun Tzu's Art of War.

As I remember it, we did this both to punish the one left out, and to create a sense of closeness between the two who "did right-right." To draw comparisons again with war: The enemy of my enemy is my friend... or, They had a common enemy. The cruel games of children, of course, are but trifling when one considers those we inflict upon each other as adults. Still, it seems to me that many motives remain the same. There is a desire to punish, and to identify over shared similarity with the one who is not marked by strangeness. Somehow it is a part of human nature, that reflex we have to shy away from difference--- to abhor things unknown (or wrongly perceived as unknown). 

Ready set awesome.

I have many a time committed acts of discrimination based on fear of difference. There are endless varieties of discrimination, some of them passing as unseen, socially acceptable, or even socially approved. For example, before Myer was hired at Harvard Business School, I had a habit of talking about "that kind of person" in a markedly rude and ignorant manner. This sort of discrimination, however, is highly acceptable among many people, even the well-educated. It can actually get you points to talk down about "corrupt Ivy League business people" in many circles. I understand that it may be a wholly different matter than, say, the Fergusen-style racial atrocities going on in this country.... but fear is fear. Discrimination is discrimination. And I believe that whenever I use biased, judgmental, and ignorant language in any arena, I contribute to horrid acts such as the killing of Michael Brown. My friends and family may not ever think to call me "racist," but I sincerely see myself as necessarily having to be part of the problem. 

Racism is made of many ingredients, and none of them is equal to the product. Racism is made of non-racist elements. Like, imagine racism is a cookie--- that cookie does not include any ingredient in the recipe called "cookie".... it includes flour, sugar, butter, chocolate, nuts, etc. Saying a cookie is made out of cookies sounds ridiculous; so, too, does saying that racism is made out of racists. Ingredients in the cookie of racism include actions I myself have initiated, such as turning away from a man asking for money on the street because I was ashamed, when I could at least have smiled at him with genuine kindness... or making jokes about those "stupid jock guys" instead of putting myself in their shoes and contemplating the history and circumstances that formed them. Discrimination based on race, religion, sexual preference, gender, social or economic status... all of these have lengthy recipes and none of them exists apart from the fabric that is made from all of us. 

The best Imagine.

The new year is always a time for "resolutions," for fresh commitments and rejuvenated investment in living out one's beliefs... but I wish to make this promise every day: I shall strive to awaken within each moment, so that I may see my judgments before they calcify; to listen deeply without an agenda, without a need to prove or convince; to keep always in mind the subjective nature of truth so as not to be caught in the trap of righteousness; and to remain conscious of the contrast between my body's impermanence and the endlessly reverberating nature of my actions. Obviously I shall make countless mistakes as I continue to learn... but I do believe I have the capacity to become a creature of greater wisdom and awareness.

By: Thich Nhat Hanh