What I Have Taught My Feminism, Part II

Housekeeping Notes:

1. Read Part I first, if you have not already done so.
2. If you read Frank's comment (or if you are Frank!), do not fear!  I am writing an answer to his question... It will come at the end of Part III.

The necessity of vulnerability does not mean we must be completely open and vulnerable with everyone we encounter to be fully human.  Prudence allows us to respond to human sin.  Our relationships with other require a balance of prudence with openness, always guided by caritas.  It does mean that vulnerability is bad, is not something to be avoided.  It is a beautiful expression of our humanity.  And, because of the inherent risk, it requires a certain courage, a certain strength to live it out.

Now, you may have noticed an implication in this discussion of vulnerability, which leads to the next lesson I taught my feminism. 

If self-gift is essential to humanity, then no human being can truly exist in isolation.  We can only fully realize our selves as persons if we do so in relation to other persons.  What a blow to my ideal of self-sufficiency!  I like to imagine myself capable of complete independence.  Alas, JPII tells me otherwise. And it gets worse.  The ultimate self-gift – the opening of self and reception of other – happens in marital love.  Not only do I as a person not make sense except in relation to another person, but I as a woman do not makes sense except in relation to man.

What I Have Taught My Feminism, Part I

Now that you have done your assigned reading, it is time for the next chapter of Beth's feminist musings, "What I Have Taught My Feminism."

[Read the first series here.]

Now that I have begun, I might as well continue to develop a few more thoughts on vulnerability and gender. Again, I want to put these musings into a wider context; this time, “What I Have Taught My Feminism.” My feminism has taught me valuable lessons, but on occasion, I have had to instruct it, especially when I try to make it play nicely with my Church. There are two lessons in particular that I want to focus on, because of how crucial they are for correcting misunderstandings between my feminism and my Church.

First: Vulnerability is not a bad thing. The opposite assumption comes not just from my feminism, but from our society as a whole. And I am, as a stubbornly independent woman, perhaps particularly susceptible to it. As a basic, working definition I give, “the potentiality to be hurt.” It need not imply an actual being hurt: a newborn child, with the wisest, most doting parents, is extremely vulnerable. We don’t like vulnerability: it implies helplessness, weakness, and passivity. What about that sounds good?

The helplessness, I suppose, is part of the definition of vulnerability, but I mean to contend that the other two are not, or need not be. Vulnerability can be accompanied by an active strength, because it is can be primarily a factor of opennesss.

Or, to use the words of everyone’s favorite Polish Pope, it is about gift of self. The meaning of our humanity – of being a person – is the ability to make a gift of ourselves and to accept the gift of another. This is a huge starting point for his theology of the body. We are our bodies. In the beginning, this gift was safe because no one would think of harming another. Now, however, the gift involves risk – risk of exploitation or rejection. Thus gift of self = vulnerability. The catch is: gift of self = only true way to be a person. Vulnerability is intrinsic to our personhood and inescapable for our humanity.

Assigned Reading

... or rather viewing.  I don't watch things online -- I prefer to take in information through reading.  It goes at my own pace, allows me to skim, and doesn't make noises.  So this video sat in a perpetually opened tab for about two weeks before I watched it.  Now it's your turn: you need to see it as preparation for my next installment of "Beth the Feminist."  Oh, yeah, and it's a TED video, so it's good.  It's Brené Brown on "The Power of Vulnerability."

Day-Maker #79

Today, I got sunburned and Starbucks, two things that do not normally happen in Steubenville.

Thoughts During Comps Season, Freedom Edition

I left home this morning armed with three pens, an unmarked Bible, chocolate-covered blueberries, and coffee, ready to receive the Eucharist and take on the world.  Or at least comps.

Six hours later, I emerged, triumphant.  And now comps are over -- we are free!

Thanks for the prayers and the support!

Thoughts During Comps Season, VII

I know all the things ever.  Or, all the things I will ever know.  Or, as much as I plan to learn before comps.

Friends who are taking comps with me, do not be afraid.

Friends who are not, pray for us -- from 9am to 3pm tomorrow.  Then pray for our professors to be merciful.

St. Joseph of Cupertino, pray for us.  All you holy men and women, all you angels and saints, pray for us.

Thoughts During Comps Season, VI

Shelly gave me advice from a friend/fellow-sufferer: pray through each question and come up with a litany of saints for each.  I did this and I have lots of friends in high places.  [Side-note: I was surprised at how often JPII came into my litanies.]  However, I kept feeling that someone was missing.  At last I realized that we had read oogobs (a technical theological term) of Joseph Ratzinger.  Who is still in the pilgrim Church with us.  Unfortunately, it is too late to write to him to ask for his prayers and he is no longer Tweeting.

Thoughts During Comps Season, V

I am starting to have comps dreams.  Last night, someone took my seat -- sitting on my jacket! -- while I went to get a pen.  This created a huge problem because it was the only place in the room with proper feng-shui.  If someone does this in real life, I will sit on that person.  I still regret that I did not do this in my dream.

Thoughts During Comps Season, IV

We all have questions we hope we get and questions we hope we do not get.  I realized this once more as I talked to myself like a crazy person for two hours outside the student center today.  An example of how I answered part of a question I hope I do not get:

"We -- yeah, Gregory -- gender...." That's all I've got.

St. Joseph of Cupertino, pray for us.

Thoughts During Comps Season, III

Studying so many classes at once is a problem, because I want to go over the things that I like, but I already know the things I like, because I find them interesting.  So I over-study fun things and ignore the hard ones...

Thoughts During Comps, II

I've done all the hard work -- taking the classes, compiling study guides for the questions.  They should just collect my notes and grade me on those.  They can even have all nine questions, instead of making me answer four.  Doesn't that seem more comprehensive?

St. Joseph of Cupertino, pray for us

Thoughts During Comps Season, I

[I considered an official hiatus (rather than the unofficial one I've been taking) for the next week as I prepare for comprehensive exams.  Instead, I will entertain you with the inside of my head during this time.]

One of my questions requests that I "thoroughly and accurately" discuss a topic.  Does this mean that when a question does not state accuracy as a requirement, it doesn't matter?  Because that would be hugely helpful.