Feminist Findings in Lady Gaga's Newest Album

When it comes to Lady Gaga, the biggest name in pop music (and arguably the world) today, my feelings are very much in tune with what Noelle Williams had to say in this article published on Ms. Blog:

[Lady Gaga] will say something feminist one minute and equate feminism with man-hating the next. Sometimes she seems too skinny, too blonde, too commercial — but then she explains how her Bad Romance video simulates the trafficking of women as commodities in the music industry and I swoon.

There's a huge debate over whether Lady Gaga is truly a "feminist icon" or simply another media-hound who will go to any length to make the tabloids buzz (can anybody say "meat dress"?), but I like to think that I'm on neutral ground. I'm not ready to call the woman the next [insert your favorite feminist here], but I certainly appreciate the positive messages in some of her songs, namely those that have to do with female empowerment and "just being yourself."

As much as my anti-mainstream senses are telling me to hate Ms. Gaga (the product of growing up with a musically-gifted-yet-stubborn brother who will bite the head off anyone who admits to liking a mainstream artist), I honestly think it's cool that one of the biggest celebrities in the world is an outspoken woman who unforgivingly supports LGBT rights — and sometimes feminist ideals. 

As Williams states in the conclusion of her Ms. Blog article, Gaga possesses the type of "immense popularity and youthful, outspoken image [that] could be the perfect set-up for a revolution." In other words, she has the potential to make feminism and LGBT rights fashionable in a world that has traditionally viewed both in a negative light. We can only hope that "Mother Monster" uses this power and influence to incite positive change, and leaves past mistakes behind her.

My favorite lines from select songs on Lady Gaga's new album:

I'm gonna marry the night

I won't give up on my life

I'm a warrior queen

Live passionately tonight

- Marry the Night

I will fight for, I have fought for how I love you (La-la-la-la-la-la)
I have cried for, I will die for how I care (La-la-la-la-la-la)
- Americano

I just wanna be myself,
And I want you to love me for who I am
I just wanna be myself,
And I want you to know, I am my Hair

I’ve had enough
This is my prayer
That I’ll die living just as free as my hair

I don't wanna change,
And I don't wanna be ashamed
I'm the spirit of my Hair
It's all the glory that I bare
I am my Hair!
- Hair

When I'm on a mission
I rebuke my condition.
If you're a strong female,
You don't need permission.

Love is objectified by what men say is right
Scheiße-scheiße be mine,
Bullshit be mine (Bullshit be mine)
Blonde high-heeled feminist enlisting femmes for this
Express your woman-kind
Fight for your right (Fight for your right)
- Scheiße

We are not just art for 
Michelangelo to carve.
- Bloody Mary

Don't tell me I'm less than my freedom.

I’m a twit, degenerate young rebel and I’m proud of it
Pump your fist if you would rather mess up than put up with this
- Bad Kids

She's just an American riding a dream
And she's got rainbow syrup in her heart that she bleeds
They don't care if your papers or your love is the law
She's a free soul burning roads with the flag in her bra
- Highway Unicorn (Road to Love)

Tonight I'm gonna show
Them what I'm made of, oh!
The killer queen inside me's
Coming to say "Hello!"

Whenever I start feeling strong, I'm called a bitch in the night
But I don't need these 14-carat guns to win
I am a woman, I insist it's my life

I can be
The queen that's inside of me
This is my chance to release it
Be brave for you you'll see

I can be
The queen you need me to be
This is my chance to be the dance
I've dreamed it's happening
I can be the queen
- The Queen

I'm beautiful in my way
'Cause God makes no mistakes
I'm on the right track, baby
I was born this way

Don't hide yourself in regret
Just love yourself and you're set
I'm on the right track, baby
I was born this way

Give yourself prudence
And love your friends
Subway kid, rejoice your truth

In the religion of the insecure
I must be my self, respect my youth

A different lover is not a sin
Believe capital H-I-M (Hey hey hey)
I love my life I love this record and
Mi amore vole fe yah (Love needs faith)

Don't be a drag, just be a queen
Whether you're broke or evergreen
You're black, white, beige, chola descent
You're Lebanese, you're orient
Whether life's disabilities
Left you outcast, bullied, or teased
Rejoice and love yourself today
'cause baby you were born this way

No matter gay, straight, or bi,
lesbian, transgendered life,
I'm on the right track baby,
I was born to survive.
No matter black, white or beige
Chola or orient made,
I'm on the right track baby,
I was born to be brave.
- Born This Way

Life Lesson: Always Love Yourself First (By Natalia K.)

This article was submitted by Natalia K., a Drama major with serious passions for "theatre, acting, films, feminism, food, traveling, and Starbucks." Check her out at This is Natalia!

Whether we like it or not, we all have to go through a long list of  "firsts" in life: first kiss, first date, first "serious" relationship, first time you have sex, and the first serious breakup (which is never, ever, an easy thing to go through). But being a feminist definitely made it easier for me to make the dreaded and life-altering decision. 

I had my first serious boyfriend right at the end of high school when I was 18. I was young, naive, sheltered, and completely confused about what I wanted in life. He was an amazing first boyfriend though; he respected me, we were very compatible, and most importantly, he was always supportive of the changes I went through (the best boyfriend a feminist could ask for). 

As you can imagine, I went through major life changes when I started university. My relationship with theatre (my life-long passion and university major) drastically changed for the better, my feminist identity became much stronger (and louder!), and I simply just became an adult. However, somewhere in the past three years, I no longer felt a strong connection to my boyfriend. I knew I had to end the relationship because I was no longer madly in love with him and I had the desperate need to be on my own and live my life with my new identity. The last time I was single I was 18 and I was a completely different person back then. 

It's been a month since I broke up with him and it hasn't been easy. At times I feel guilty because he was a great guy and an amazing boyfriend, and somehow I feel that I'm causing him suffering that he does not deserve. This is a major reason why many women don't have the courage to end a relationship, because we feel that the person we share our life with does not deserve to be broken up with. As usual, women put someone else's happiness ahead of their own because that is simply the way we are conditioned. Although I really wish there was a way I could minimize his pain, I simply can't, and I cannot get back together with him for that reason either. I know too well that I am entitled to go out there and live my life. To meet new people and keep rediscovering myself in new ways because I am only 21. 

My friends have praised me for my choice because I found the courage to end the relationship. I know that many of my friends and women in general have trouble finding this courage. Well here's my advice: this is your life and you have to do what's best for you. It is sad when a relationship comes to an end but just be thankful that you got the privilege to spend a part of your life with that person. And most importantly, you may think you're doing that person a favor by staying with them, but you are actually harming them just as much as you're harming youself. Because everyone in life deserves to be loved and be happy.

I'd like to end this post with a very wise quote from Sex and the City (I know this is kind of ironic because a lot of feminists dislike this show. I personally think that this quote is amazing).

"I'm gonna say the one thing you aren't supposed to say. I love you . . .

 but I love me more." - Samantha Jones

20 Best Biographies for Women in Business

This article was submitted to me by Florine C. over at bachelorsdegree.org.

What do Ruth Handler, Martha Stewart, and Oprah have in common? They're all included in an article titled 20 Best Biographies for Women in Business! This article features books about influential women who have overcome many of the trials that go along with being female in the male-dominated world of business and economics. 

If you're an aspiring entrepreneur (or simply have an insatiable hunger for new reading material), you should definitely check these books out — literally, from your library!

Check out Grrrl Beat, a new online magazine created by the lead singer of Care Bears on Fire!

The fierce chicks of Care Bears on Fire, a pop-punk band with a feminist twist.
(From left to right: Jena, Sophie, and Izzy)

You may have caught a glimpse of Care Bears on Fire on Nickelodeon or The David Letterman Show. Made up of high schoolers Sophie (lead vocals, guitar), Izzy (drums, back-up vocals), and Jena (bass, back-up vocals), this Brooklyn-based band appeals to a younger audience while still drawing inspiration from the underground feminist punk scene (more commonly known as the Riot Grrrl movement) of the 1990's.

Recently, the band's front-runner, Sophie, started an online forum called Grrrl Beat, a place where people can read and talk about music, culture, fashion, art, books, feminism, etc. Young artists and musicians are also encouraged to post their work so that they might receive feedback from the online community.

Grrrl Beat is just getting on its feet, so Sophie is in dire need of articles, art, music, and more! If you're interested, send your submissions to grrrlbeat@gmail.com!

• Grrrl Beat Facebook Page
• Grrrl Beat on Twitter
• Care Bears on Fire Official Website
• Care Bears on Fire Facebook Page
• Care Bears on Fire Myspace Page

And for your listening enjoyment:

P.S. If anybody cares, my favorite of their songs is Heart's Not There. *smiles*

Female, Not A Marionette (By Jennifer J.)

Who's pulling your strings?

This piece was submitted by Jennifer J., a teen feminist and humanist. Jennifer would like to communicate with other teens who share her values, and end up making the world a better place for women to speak out!

If I am writing this now, it is because I feel the need to share this with other females out there who might go through the same situation. Today, I have just realized what I am to other people, especially males. 

I am not exactly the type of girl who "goes after" somebody right after some silly talk. I like to know them first and try to be connected. I have a very big heart, but I don’t show it that much. On the outside I am the tough and cold girl you would never approach, but on the inside I am the girl who loves and cares. The only reason I don’t demonstrate it is because I have learned that the more you show how warm-hearted you are, the more people will take advantage of you. 

And so, when people would draw near me, I would be indifferent, not showing any emotions. But there was one person who, despite my frostiness, approached me and faced everything I threw at him. To me that was incredible; usually people would be distant because of how cold I am. Only he had the bravery to talk to me. 

Of course we talked for a while. We got to know each other and started talking about more romantic subjects. Like many guys, he wanted to be more intimate, however I wasn't comfortable with that. I would rather talk about these kind of things and fuel the imagination than actually be intimate with somebody. I still consider myself a little girl; I don’t want to go that far.

After arguing about it several times, I decided to drop it and delete this guy from my contacts. Was that supposed to feel bad? Well, I did feel bad about doing that for some reason. I added him back and we continued talking to each other. As time passed, he was really getting serious and that critically put pressure on me. My body is a temple. I am not supposed to be pressured because of it, right? 

I decided then to talk to him about it. I told him that I shouldn’t be pressured and that we should slow things down. Today, I realize that he obliterated me. Now it makes me think about how and what I am to males. 

I am a female, and I am intelligent, beautiful, graceful, important and trustworthy. My body is sacred and not a universal pathway. I am talking now in the name of all females in the world. We are not something people can just use for their fantasies. We are love, care, comfort and attention. We are strength, courage and beauty. What makes guys think that we can be the tissue they blow in? 

Our bodies are the reason why there is a world and a worldwide population. We bear life in us. We are to be respected and loved. So I will state this one very last thing and if you can, read it out loud:

“I am a woman and not a marionette.”  

What does being a girl mean to you? (By Alexis Z.)

Alexis Z. wrote this piece in response to a question I've been asking for a while now: "What does being a girl mean to you?" If you've got a different opinion about what "being a girl" means to you, type it up and send it to me at teenagefeminist@gmail.com! See the official submission guidelines here.

Women are fighters. Even without the gloves.

[Being a girl] means that I can do whatever I want. I can wear what I want and not be criminalized because of it. Though today some men think that it's okay to rape a woman because she is wearing a short skirt . . . being a girl means that I can wear pants, shorts, or a skirt. It means that . . . when I turn 18 I can vote, I can join the military. It means that my fore-mothers fought for equality and they fought hard. We don't have perfect equality today and it would be nice to have it, but we do have some. 

Being a girl is a sense of freedom that I can be myself. [But it also] means that whenever I am in a bad mood it's [automatically] "my time of the month." That isn't fair. 

Being a girl means that I have to fight for what I want . . . Being a girl means that I have to prove myself in whatever I do and I have to do it right, because if I don't then it will be said that "women can't do that." Being a girl is a blessing and a curse. Everyone says that women are equal, but being a girl means that I am a minority, even though women are 52% of the world's population.

Being a girl is wonderful. I may have to fight for my beliefs, but the fight is worth it. Even if I get shot down once, I am going to keep trying . . . Being a girl means that I am never going to change my opinion on anything that is dear to me. I thank all of my ancestors who fought for the rights that I have today, and I will keep fighting for the equality that all women still have to gain. 

Being a fighter, a mother, a lover, a pusher, and being stubborn is what being a girl means to me.

Other posts in this series: 

• What does being a girl mean to you? (By Becka W.)

What does being a girl mean to you? (By Becka W.)

Becka W. wrote this piece in response to a question I posted under my Writers Wanted tab: "What does being a girl mean to you?" Becka blogs about feminist issues and her work has been featured on Fbomb multiple times – check her out at Becka Tells All!

Being a girl takes guts. 

I can walk with my feet 3 inches off the ground for the whole day. I walk down streets alone at night in a short skirt even though so many in my society tell me that it’s dangerous for a girl to be out alone, that a man may take advantage of her – and that it’s her fault if she doesn't cover herself up. 

I dream of careers in comedy or media or politics, despite the fact that all of those areas are notorious boys’ clubs.

  

Being a girl takes compassion and the will to act. I hear stories of other women’s rapes or fights with the healthcare system and I want to help them out. I hear about inequality and injustice in the fight for LGBT rights and I remember how rough it was – still is – for women to be accepted as powerful figures in our society, and I fight with them. I hear about a blood drive, or a cancer research walk, or a charity benefit and I feel compelled to participate. I don’t hate men, I just hate some men who don’t care about girls. I don’t hate conservatives, I hate that they’ve co-opted religion as their defense against women’s reproductive rights. I know how to see shades of gray. 

Being a girl takes confidence. We’re told to look a certain way, to behave a certain way, to like certain things. The fact that I am heavier, hate sitting with my legs crossed, and like Star Wars, Star Trek, comic books, and raunchy comedies more than I enjoy chick flicks doesn’t make me less of a woman. 

It makes me a more complex one. 

Girls are told to be one way, and to be any other way takes guts and confidence and independence and faith in oneself – and every girl is different from that image, that stereotype.

  

Being a girl means being awesome, intelligent, fantastic, strong, independent, fun, adventurous, kind, smart, and great.

____________________________

I'm curious to know what "being a girl" means to YOU. Send your response to teenagefeminist@gmail.com, and I might just post it!

Love the Body You've Got (Take it From a Fat Girl)

I've never seen anyone like Beth Ditto in
the limelight before; I think her beauty is
absolutely magnetic. Hooray for confidence!

I recall a time in elementary school when a friend tried to defend me from a few bullies by saying that I "wasn't fat, just big-boned." A few years later, I had a teacher who — probably in an attempt to keep my ego intact — wouldn't let kids say "fat" in class, only "fluffy."

To set the record straight, I do not have abnormally large bones. And I am not, nor have I ever been, a rabbit. But whether it's these sugar-coated terms or the painfully unoriginal "ugly fat girl," I've never quite been able to shake my overweight status for long.

Despite a few traumatizing events (i.e. falling off the jungle gym, losing my paper pilgrim's hat on Thanksgiving, etc.), I have relatively good memories of elementary school. I was about a foot taller than everybody else and began experiencing all the joys of early puberty (ah, training bras!), but I still don't remember those days in terms of my body. Rather, I remember going insane on Field Day (I still have the ribbons to prove it), competing with my classmates to see who could write the most numbers (we had to sprawl our lists out in the hallway to measure them), and playing "The Magic Scrap" when our teacher needed to trick us into cleaning up our messes.

Middle school was a different story. I don't know what they started putting in the Capri Suns the summer between my 5th and 6th grade years, but everybody got meaner while I became more and more self-conscious. I was significantly - shall we say, heftier - than my classmates, and there were always those intent on reminding me that I was fat and they were not.

I was an emotional wreck. Whether people recognized it or not, I was basically writhing in my own skin, caught between trying to wear clothes that were "hip" (and feeling awkward), and falling back on dingy jeans and band t-shirts (and still feeling awkward).

I love Adele. But whenever I go on
Youtube all I see are comments
saying how "fat" she is. Tell me
this woman isn't beautiful.

High school, I am proud to say, is much better. No overweight teen is going to escape the negative comments that inevitably bounce through high school hallways, but I've found a comfortable niche among friends and clubmates where I feel almost immune to that sort of thing. I've been living by the mantra "If it won't matter in five years, don't worry about it."

But last week, after a several-month streak of body positivity, somebody really hurt me. And I don't even think they meant to.

Long story short, this person (who is probably a size 4 or smaller) complained about how much weight they've gained and, in a not-so-subtle way, alluded to the fact that I was unhealthy. Really? You're going to complain to me about how much weight you've gained? And then you're going to criticize my health, despite the fact you know how hard I bust my butt for school, projects, and all the stuff I'm involved with? I was literally thinking: "Sorry, insert-name-here, I haven't had much motivation to exercise lately. Hard to imagine why."

Needless to say, I felt really crappy when I got home that day. But then I found these posters in the Love Your Body Day section of the NOW website and immediately felt better.

My favorite poster.

To top it all off, I also found this quote in a random comment on the Ms. Magazine website:

The less we judge each other by the contours of our bodies, the more clearly we will see the true content of each other's characters.

Isn't that awesome?

It reminded me that in the grand scheme of things it doesn't matter what we look like, just what we do. We're not going to be remembered for being a size 4 (or 24), so we might as well make the most of life without letting insecurities "weigh" us down.
______________________________________________________________

You may not know Beth Ditto (pictured above), but she's the lead singer of a band called Gossip (which originated only 30 miles from my hometown). Ditto is apparently well known for her outspoken support of both LGBT and feminist causes (according to the all-knowing Wikipedia), and is also an advocate of body positivity. Even if this isn't exactly my type of music, it's cool to see a bigger girl rock it out for once!

Drawing Strength From Going Against the "Beauty Grain"

Man, I'm exhausted. My inner-feminist got a good workout this week (even if I didn’t).

First it was watching an incredibly stereotypical episode of Disaster Date (see Cram another feminist stereotype in there, why don't you?), then it was listening to a bitter Youtubian trying to tell me why "women have it so easy in life," and then kindly reminding him why that wasn’t necessarily true. And now, go figure, a Facebook comment has got my vigilante juices flowing.

You see, I was making my usual rounds on Facebook (scrolling down the homepage to see if anything juicy was going on) when I noticed one of my classmates talking about possibly getting her hair cut. Now don't get me wrong, her hair is absolutely gorgeous - long, shiny, and black, the kind wig-makers would kill for - but I'm a huge fan of short cuts (no pun intended). Naturally, I chimed in with a good pat on the back and “atta girl,” but it wasn’t long before a couple of boys jumped in and disagreed, saying short hair most certainly wouldn’t be cute.

Miffed, I asked: "What's wrong with short hair?"

Nothing, apparently. Except the girl in question "wouldn't look as cute" with it.

"Well, it's not your decision to make!” . . . is what I would’ve said, if I weren’t such a civil person. (Facebook is no place for a fight. Back alleys are so much better . . .)

But seriously, this isn't a stand-alone case. Whenever a girl talks about getting her hair cut on Facebook (yeah, teens have too much time on their hands), it's always girls who show support, and guys who seem to have massive coronaries. I know it's a biological fact that men are attracted to women with long hair (you know, because it signifies "youth" and "fertility," stuff 16-year-olds really care about), but it's the 21st century for cryin' out loud! If we want to get our hair cut short - or do anything that contradicts outdated standards of beauty - what's stopping us?

In fact (and yes, this is going to sound really cheesy), I'm starting to realize the power one can draw from going against the grain. The beauty grain, that is.


For starters, my hair is short. Not a big deal, right? But you're talking to a girl who only had about three trips to Super Cuts in her entire childhood, and who had waist-length hair until the 10th grade. But I've never felt more alive since adopting a short do, and I couldn't care less what type of hair boys prefer. Because short hair - that I can tease mercilessly, that hardly needs brushing, and that creates the most awesome bed-head ever - makes me feel light, free, confident, and fierce.


Something else I've taken for granted until recently is natural beauty. I’ve always seen it in others, but when it comes to myself I’ve always felt the need to hide my imperfections (especially at school) with healthy doses of foundation and mascara. I can even remember the one time I didn't wear makeup to school (because I was so gosh-darned tired), and I ended up feeling self-conscious all day. It sucked big time.


But these days, seeing as I can’t get my license for another six months and my parents both work, I’ve been stuck at home all summer. In other words: no makeup.

Have you ever really looked at yourself in the mirror? I mean really looked?


Astrid Alaud posed a similar question when she asked if we’ve ever actually “tasted” a carrot. Not just ate it, but tasted it. She suggested that “we can’t taste the beauty and energy of the earth in a Twinkie,” and similarly, I think there’s no better time to marvel at the beauty of humanity as when we’re completely "natural."


I know (now) that when I look in the mirror it doesn’t matter whether my eyelashes are long and luscious or straight and stubby, if my complexion is perfectly tanned or perfectly pink, or if my blemishes are covered or just there. It really doesn’t matter. But when I take a minute to actually study myself, feel my face in my hands, or jack it up into an uninhibited smile, I see a girl who’s funny, and dorky, and smart, and corny, and above all passionate about a lot of things. And that’s when I think I know . . . scratch that, that's when I know what magazines are missing these days. Not just me, but us. The real us.


All I’m saying is: don’t let other people tell you how to live your life. Don’t shy away from getting your hair cut (or try to grow it out!) just because you think boys will like it, and don’t wear makeup because that’s what girls are “supposed” to do. Glam yourself up as much (or as little) as you want because it makes you happy, because it makes you confident, and because it makes you want to take on the world. Look in the mirror - really look - and be proud to see what you see.


Despite what Dallas Cowboy cheerleader and/or Hollister employee recruiters would have you believe, there is no single definition of “beauty.” So let's make up our own rules, okay?